Maybe, Someday, Perhaps
by moon-dragon3
Summary: Answer to Severitus' challenge. Please read and review! - FINISHED!
1. Harry hates Snape hates Harry

"Potter!"  
  
Harry looked up quizzically.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
"Don't take that tone with me, Potter! That's 10 points you've lost for Gryffindor."  
  
"Yes sir" replied Harry meekly.  
  
"And another 10 for getting your potion wrong. It should be orange, not red."  
  
"But sir, it is nearly orange, as soon as we add the dragon tooth shavings it will. . ."  
  
"Granger, I was under the impression I was teaching this lesson, and not you? 10 points for your cheek as well."  
  
Hermione reluctantly fell silent, though Harry could tell she was bursting to tell Snape exactly how their potion was going to turn out perfectly. Snape smirked.  
  
"No witty retort, Potter? Your brains obviously come from your father's side of the family."  
  
Oh yes, here it comes. . .  
  
Harry's eyes blazed, but he remained silent.  
  
"As did your inability to follow rules, your constant arrogance. . ."  
  
Harry was biting his tongue so hard he thought he would scream from the pain. Snape's eyes gleamed maliciously as he tried to make Harry react.  
  
Might as well make it a round 50 points from Gryffindor before the end of class. . .  
  
"Though it doesn't seem as though you have picked up any of your mother's good points either."  
  
Where the hell had that come from?  
  
The whole class watched as Harry began to shake. A light glass vial fell to the floor with a crash, the effect of his raw magic.  
  
"Please have the respect not to talk about my mother, sir. She did nothing to hurt you."  
  
The boy's words were civil, but he ground them out from between his teeth. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees, and Harry looked Snape straight in the eye.  
  
Anything could have happened next, but the bell rang for the end of the class, and with a sharp hand gesture Snape waved everyone away. With a final contemptuous Harry turned on his heel and left.  
  
"Longbottom, 20 points from Gryffindor, and it'll be 100 next time you ruin another cauldron."  
  
But Snape's heart wasn't in it. Why the hell hadn't Potter reacted? Baiting the Boy-Who-Persistently-Lived was Snape's favourite pastime but the stubborn, arrogant little sod was refusing to react. Did he know that was the one thing he could do to really anger Snape? Probably. Pesky little bugger.  
  
********************************  
  
Harry strode down the corridor, his robes billowing out behind him. He didn't have his wand out, but every so often little cracks would appear in the walls, characters would flee through their paintings, and on one occasion a thin door actually snapped in two with an anguished scream. Harry was so intent on pacing furiously that he didn't even notice Albus Dumbledore until he walked straight into the headmaster.  
  
"Good morning, Harry" said the wizened wizard with a smile. "Would you like to come with me?"  
  
It wasn't a request.  
  
Harry followed Dumbledore up to his office, and shook his head at the proffered lemon sherbet. He knew the Headmaster had called his here for a purpose, but wasn't sure what that purpose was.  
  
"Now, Harry, I was sitting in my office, writing yet another letter to Cornelius Fudge, when the strangest thing happened. Do you know what that was, Harry?"  
  
Though his voice was serious, Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily at him over the top of the glasses. Harry swallowed, and said softly,  
  
"Would that have been the alarms telling you that Hogwarts was decaying too quickly from the inside?"  
  
"Right you are, Harry! So, naturally, I followed the stone chippings and splinters of wood, and they led me straight from the potions classroom to you."  
  
Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but relaxed slightly when Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"I haven't called you here to shout at you. Had I wanted to, I would have employed Professor Snape's admirable wit for the task." Seeing Harry tense slightly at the sound of his hated teacher's name, Dumbledore continued more gently.  
  
"You two are still having problems, hmm? I do wish he would let go of his silly grudge against your father; but I am afraid you two simply annoy each other naturally. It may not surprise you that I have, again, had to intervene to prevent you from being failed in potions?"  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
"No, professor, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest. It's not that I'm not interested in potions; half the time, my potion is ruined because Snape. . ."  
  
"Professor Snape, Harry"  
  
"Yeah. . .because he's insulting me and my parents." Harry's voice broke slightly and he stared at his hands. In doing so, he missed the look of surprise that came of Dumbledore's features.  
  
"Your. . .parents? Both of them?"  
  
"Yes. He never talked about my mother before. He wasn't even horrible about her, he just said that I hadn't picked up any of her good points. But it made me so angry! Then he finished the class, and I didn't even realise things were breaking!"  
  
Harry's voice had been getting progressively higher and faster through his diatribe. Dumbledore tilted Harry's chin up, and looked into his eyes.  
  
"I'm afraid I cannot stop professor Snape from insulting your father. However, I understand your distress over him mentioning your mother, and I will of course speak to him on the matter."  
  
The old man's eyes twinkled mischievously.  
  
"I could also ask if he would be willing to give up some of his free time to offer you extra potions tuition. . ."  
  
As Harry nearly fell off his chair, face paling in horror, Dumbledore laughed outright.  
  
"I'm only joking, my dear boy. Now, you had better hurry or you will miss dinner altogether."  
  
"Yes sir. Thank you, sir"  
  
And with that, Harry left, to have what would be his last good meal in a long time.  
  
****************************  
  
"Can you believe it? Term's over and we haven't been nearly killed by Voldemort or anything!"  
  
"Ron!" scolded Hermione. "Don't tempt fate, and don't speak with your mouth full!"  
  
Harry laughed at his two best friends.  
  
"We even passed potions! Though Dumbledore told me he'd stepped in to stop Snape failing me. . ."  
  
"Greasy git" mumbled Ron through a mouthful of food.  
  
Hermione jabbed him in the ribs, hard, and he spat out the partially chewed potatoes.  
  
"Mr Weasley, manners please" admonished McGonagall as she walked up to the staff table, and Ron pulled a face at her back. Harry laughed again. He would miss his friends this summer.  
  
*******************************  
  
As they got off at Platform 9 and ¾ and walked though the barrier, Harry caught sight of Mrs Weasley.  
  
"Harry! How are you? How was your year?"  
  
"I'm fine thanks" said Harry, though he was slightly distracted by Uncle Vernon who really was a very dangerous colour of purple.  
  
"Umm, I think my Uncle's waiting for me. . .maybe I should go"  
  
Mrs Weasley gave him a big hug, at the same time putting a bag of chocolate frogs in his pocket. Ron clapped him on the back, also adding some Every Flavour Beans, and Hermione gave him a kiss on the cheek, which made him go almost as red as his uncle, before whispering she'd send an owl with some snacks soon.  
  
Sadly Harry moved away from his friends, and towards his carers. Dudley leered at Hermione, who looked slightly nauseated and quickly walked over to her parents.  
  
"That your girlfriend? Quite hot, for a freak"  
  
Harry bit his lip hard. He would not let Dudley see how much that annoyed him. He didn't like Hermione for anything other than a friend but it still hurt like hell to hear her talked about like that.  
  
************************************  
  
Harry was obviously not popular at No 4 Privet Drive. He had been confined to the cupboard under the stairs again, however this time there was a small pot in the corner - obviously no bathroom privileges - and his school stuff was upstairs, completely inaccessible as the door to the cupboard was kept locked. Harry was just reflecting he could use a pin to unlock the door at night when he heard an ominous crackling noise.  
  
*Oh god, no, please don't let it be. . .*  
  
He craned his neck as hard as he could. Everything he owned was being burned. Thankfully. . .or not. . .there were no magical supplies there. But every piece of homework, his quills, ink, and robes, were all going up in smoke. Not even caring about the consequences, he hammered on the door, screaming at Vernon to stop. Petunia was happily fanning the flames which consumed his invisibility cloak, and Harry couldn't stop the tears from coursing down his cheeks. The last contact he had with his father had gone.  
  
As he watched, Dudley picked up his photo album and opened it. He dropped it with a shriek.  
  
"Mum! Mum! They're moving!"  
  
Petunia screamed and kicked Harry's only pictures of his parents into the fire. As flames consumed the smiling and waving photographs, Harry slid down against the door, resting his head on the wood. The crackling echoed in his head until he wanted to scream.  
  
The door opened, knocking him backwards, and his Uncle stood on the threshold, a wicked grin lighting up his piggy features.  
  
"Did you see all of that? All of your freakishness, and your parents freakishness, is gone. You'll never be going back to that school again. You'll never see your weird friends again. Is that clear?"  
  
"No! You can't stop me going back!"  
  
"Do you really think so?" asked Vernon, advancing on Harry. "Do you really think you are more powerful than me, without a magic stick?"  
  
"My Godfather will come and kill you. He's done it before. . .I'm sure another life will make no difference to him" said Harry, trying to keep his voice steady.  
  
"Really? He'll save you if I do this?"  
  
Harry tasted blood as his uncle's meaty fist connected with the side of his face. Vernon stood grinning over Harry for a few seconds.  
  
"Oh dear. Doesn't look like your dear Godfather's coming, does it?"  
  
Harry leaned against the wall, praying for someone to help him. Anyone. . .  
  
**********************************  
  
"Severus! Good morning. Did you sleep well?"  
  
Snape nodded curtly at the headmaster.  
  
"Yes thank you, Headmaster."  
  
"Glad to be free of the students?"  
  
"Indeed."  
  
"I had an interesting conversation with young Harry the other day. . ."  
  
Dumbledore had the pleasure of seeing Snape's veins stick out a bit.  
  
"Really" ground out the potions master.  
  
"Yes. I must ask you, Severus, not to talk about his mother." Albus' eyes looked like chips of ice now. "We made an agreement, do you not remember?"  
  
Snape nodded reluctantly.  
  
"I said I would not tell Harry about your past with Lily, on condition you never used her name against him. Do not force me to reveal your past to Harry, Severus."  
  
Snape nodded. He wished Dumbledore would leave him alone. Pictures of Lily rushed through his head. Her laughing, smiling, her at her wedding with James, her and her son.  
  
Severus Snape had been in love with Lily Evans for some time, and until James had arrived on the scene she had loved him back. And then Mister Arrogance had stolen his girl, and had given Lily a child. He had no wish to remember Lily, still feeling love for her, and was more than happy that the Potter boy should never know that his greasy potions master had nearly married his mother.  
  
After all, that would give Potter a link with Severus, and the less time he had to cope with any Potter, past or present, the better.  
  
********************** 6 weeks later *****************  
  
Harry lay staring up at the ceiling of his cupboard. He could imagine how he looked, having not eaten anything since his last Every Flavour Bean (which had been pickled cabbage) which had been 3 days ago. He was allowed one glass of water a day, and given 10 minutes a day to empty his pot, wash it up, and wash his water glass. Then he was locked back in the cupboard. Every so often Vernon or Dudley would come in, laugh at him and insult him, and hit him a few times. It wasn't much, but the bruises seemed to be much more frequent. Harry didn't know if it was because he was so tired that he had lost count of time, or whether the beatings were more regular. But it wouldn't matter.  
  
Harry Potter was not going back to Hogwarts. 


	2. Going back to Hogwarts

Ron was pacing up and down the carriage, running his hands through his already unruly shock of ginger hair.  
  
"Where is he, 'Mione?"  
  
Hermione sighed.  
  
"Ron, you're making me dizzy. Sit down, for goodness sake. He's probably been held up in the traffic." Ron brightened visibly.  
  
"So you think he's ok then?"  
  
"Yes" lied Hermione "I'm sure he's fine. And even if he does miss the train, he can owl Hogwarts and they'll probably send a teacher to pick him up. Don't worry - Dumbledore never misses a trick."  
  
Inwardly, she was worried. She knew she hadn't imagined the increased strain on Harry's face over the last few weeks of term. From what she could tell, the ton-tongue toffee had been a severely bad idea. Trust the Weasleys. They seemed to have no idea of the trouble they could get into, pulling a prank like that. Inwardly she tutted as she absently fingered her new prefects badge.  
  
"I'm starving, 'Mione!" whinged Ron.  
  
"Well get something off the bloody trolley!" Snapped Hermione, surprising herself as much as Ron. In an uncharacteristic moment of sensitivity, he put a hand on her forearm.  
  
"You don't think Harry's alright, do you?"  
  
Silently, Hermione shook her head.  
  
"What are we going to do?"  
  
"Well, if he misses the train, he'll get to Hogwarts some other way. If he's not in the common room after the feast then we'll go to McGonagall and if she doesn't know what it is then we'll see Dumbledore. I'm sure we're just overreacting. It'll be fine."  
  
Ron nodded dubiously and they settled into an uneasy silence, Ron popping bubbles of Droobles Best Blowing gum loudly and Hermione reading a book on charms. After 5 minutes, the train started and there was still no sign of Harry. However, someone came. Someone who neither Hermione nor Ron particularly wanted to ever see again, let alone while they were worried about Harry.  
  
"What did you want, Malfoy?" asked Ron roughly. Hermione didn't bother looking up, though she had her wand in her hand hidden behind her robes.  
  
Malfoy didn't reply for a moment. Hermione looked up and noticed how pale he looked.  
  
"Where's Ha - Potter?"  
  
{odd} thought Hermione {it was like he was going to say Harry}  
  
"I don't know. He probably missed the train. What did you want?"  
  
Draco shifted. "I. . .I. . .I wanted to. . .uh. . .I mean. . ."  
  
"Spit it out, ferret face!" exclaimed Ron, and the Slytherin flushed, but refrained from insulting Ron.  
  
"I wanted to apologise for the way I've treated you in the past. Certain. . .things. . .happened this summer, and I am not joining the Death Eaters. I. . .I don't know how I'm going to manage at school."  
  
He suddenly looked very young and lost. {But he could be faking it!} Hermione told herself.  
  
"And. . .may I call you Ron and Hermione?"  
  
Ron was gaping like a hairy, oversized goldfish.  
  
"Yes, you may" said Hermione. "But. . .any Mudblood comments and I will hex you so hard your ancestors will feel it."  
  
"Couldn't you just hex my ancestors instead?" muttered Draco, and Hermione laughed.  
  
"Oh do shut your mouth, Ron!" she exclaimed.  
  
Draco smiled awkwardly.  
  
"So. . .where's Harry. . .Potter. . .whatever I should call him?"  
  
"I honestly don't know" said Hermione with a sigh. "He hasn't replied to our letters all of this holiday, and he's not on the train."  
  
"Well, Professor Dumbledore will get him if he's missed the train."  
  
"Yes, that's what we thought."  
  
Hermione regarded the blond boy before her, and finally asked what she had been dying to know ever since he'd spoken civilly to her.  
  
"What the hell happened with you?"  
  
************************************  
  
Harry curled up into a ball, pain exploding down his every limb. It wasn't just him; Vernon had started to realise Harry could be his own personal punching bag and no rabid axe wielding Godfather was going to come and kill them. Harry was no doctor; he didn't even know any healing charms. But he did know he was starving to death, and, with a few more beatings, the boy who lived. . .would not.  
  
*****************************************  
  
Snape was in his office, steeling himself to face all the nasty little Slytherin Death Eater's children. Merlin, but he hated having to pander to their every whim. It just added insult to the injury of the Mark which burned every so often. But then again, something worse could happen. Just like. . .  
  
*Knock Knock*  
  
"Come in" he snapped. Quite frankly he didn't give a damn if it was even Albus, he didn't want to be disturbed.  
  
"Lupin. How lovely to see you" disdain dripped from his every word.  
  
"Snape, we need to talk"  
  
"Oh, really? How nice. Have a pleasant day. Please close the door behind you"  
  
Lupin glared at Snape, his eyes glowing ferociously.  
  
"We need to talk and we need to talk NOW."  
  
Snape sighed, trying to stop himself from being nervous of the fully grown werewolf.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I got a very interesting letter by magically delayed owl yesterday and you need to read it."  
  
"Well let me read it then, Lupin, and stop breathing over my neck!"  
  
"No."  
  
Snape didn't argue. He picked up the parchment, and began reading as Lupin waited. Finally he put it down.  
  
"If this is some sort of sick joke, Lupin, I don't find it remotely funny."  
  
"It isn't. And I'm none too amused, either."  
  
"Get out" ordered Snape tersely, and Lupin complied, a sad look on his face. As he left the room, he said softly,  
  
"Don't push him away, Severus. He needs a family as much as you do" and left Snape to ponder these words.  
  
********************************  
  
Draco sighed and rubbed his nose absently.  
  
"My father decided I should be marked. I watched the Death Eaters torture and rape a little muggle girl. I. . .just felt sick, I couldn't stand it. My father was livid. He put the Cruciatus on me, and then held me down so I could be marked. He promised me I'd be beaten to within an inch of my life when I got home. But I don't think any of them expected me to disapparate. I ended up on top of some person in muggle London and ran. And. . .I just kept running."  
  
Hermione nodded, her eyes sad.  
  
"Harry would know about that"  
  
"How?" asked Draco, puzzled. Hermione sighed and looked Draco in the eye.  
  
"His link with Voldemort shows him whatever happens whenever Voldemort is feeling particularly vicious. He has terrible nightmares."  
  
Draco looked shocked, and was silent all the way up to the school.  
  
********************************  
  
Harry had no idea what day it was. He had lost all track of time. And he didn't care what day it was. Nobody was coming to save him. He was going to die, beaten, bloodied and emaciated, in this cupboard under the stairs, all alone. Nothing could stop it.  
  
********************************  
  
20 minutes later Snape was still staring at the letter in his hand. It couldn't be true, it just couldn't. Not when he looked so much like James; how cruel could Remus be? Had it been anyone else, Snape would have burnt the letter, but Remus. . .was not that sort of person.  
  
Suddenly Snape realised he was late for the feast. Disappearing through a tapestry, he emerged right next to the teachers table in the Great Hall. Dumbledore looked at him sharply, and motioned him to a place next to him. Snape glided over and sat down.  
  
"Good evening, Severus. Nice of you to join us" said McGonagall disapprovingly. Snape merely glared at her. He could feel Lupin's eyes burning into the back of his neck.  
  
Dumbledore looked piercingly at Snape.  
  
"Headmaster, I need to talk to you after dinner. It is, ah, a matter of great urgency. . ."  
  
Dumbledore nodded gravely, and then turned to talk to Professor Sinastra, leaving Snape to stare at his plate with great distaste and wonder what the hell was going to happen now.  
  
After dinner, he followed Dumbledore to his study. Before the old man could ask him any questions, Snape thrust the parchment into his hands. The headmaster scanned it, his eyes growing imperceptibly wider.  
  
"well well, Severus. This is a bit of a surprise, eh?" Snape merely glared.  
  
"I must admit, I had never imagined the possibility, but this letter is definitely genuine. . ."  
  
"You are sure?"  
  
"Oh yes, Severus, completely. And Harry must be told immediately. However, there is one small problem. . ."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
Suddenly there was a banging on the door.  
  
"Come in, Miss Granger, Mr Weasley" said Dumbledore, carefully ignoring Snape's angry hiss.  
  
"Professor. . .sir. . .we can't find Harry. . .wasn't on train. . .or at feast. . ."  
  
"Now now, my dear girl, calm yourself. What is this?"  
  
" Harry wasn't on the train. He hasn't replied to any of our letters, and we thought he might have missed the Express so we waited but he still isn't here!"  
  
Dumbledore turned to Snape.  
  
"Well, that seems to be our second problem."  
  
"Sir - you don't know where he is?" Hemione's voice was shrill and her eyes panicked.  
  
"No, Miss Granger, I am afraid I don't. However, we must get in touch with his relatives as quickly as possible. Severus, would you? I must remain here, and it will take a while to inform Minerva."  
  
Snape nodded quickly, and swept down to his quarters, picking up a thick cloak and his broom. He virtually ran to the apparition point, and apparated to the edge of the wards outside Harry's house. It looked perfect, and for a moment Snape was annoyed. Stupid boy had probably just forgotten the day. He transfigured his robes into a muggle suit (black, of course) and knocked of the door. A bony faced woman opened the door.  
  
"Not interested, whatever you're selling."  
  
"Excuse me, madam" he said stiffly, "I am here to see a Mr Harry Potter."  
  
The woman looked confused, momentarily, and anger flashed over her face.  
  
"There is no Harry Potter here" she said sharply. "Good evening."  
  
Snape looked at the door which had just been slammed in his face. He must have got the wrong number. But. . .the woman did have Lily's eyes. Definitely.  
  
Reluctantly he cast an invisibility charm on himself and levitated up to the 2nd floor of the house. He opened the window with 'alohomora' and climbed in softly. He could hear several voices shouting, and thumps coming from the staircase.  
  
oh Merlin, Severus, this is probably the wrong house. How stupid will you look when the ministry accuses you of attacking muggles?  
  
Ignoring his inner voice, Snape walked down the stairs. Funny, the noises seemed to be coming from beneath the staircase. When he reached the bottom, he saw the door was open, and a massive bulk was in the door, hitting something. From the grunts the thing emitted, it could have been a human, but it was much too small. In a grotesque way, it looked like Voldemort; like a blackened baby, curled up in a foetal position.  
  
Snape moved around the bulk of the man, and nearly threw up. The grotesque bundle of bones and bruises was a child. And not just any child. Potter.  
  
"Stupefy" he hissed, furiously. Very furiously, as the spell froze even the man's eyes. Reluctantly Snape loosened the spell a bit, so the man could breathe. He quickly stunned the bony woman and whale-sized boy, and crawled into the cupboard. It smelled of blood, urine and sweat. He imagined the boy had been left in here for the whole summer holidays.  
  
With a swish, he levitated Harry and after making them both invisible, apparated back to Hogwarts. Poppy was in the Infirmary and nearly screamed at the state of Harry. She began to heal him as well as she could, finally looking up at Snape.  
  
"What are you doing here? You're the last person he needs around. He needs people who care for him; now, please, go and fetch Minerva and Albus."  
  
Snape's throat constricted briefly as he walked out of the Infirmary to Dumbledore's office. Poppy was right; he and Potter could never be father and son. After all, the hated each other; Potter would probably kill himself before accepting Snape, and vice-versa.  
  
So why did Snape feel so disappointed? 


	3. Snape considers

Dumbledore came into the Hospital Wing and seemed to age ten years when he saw Harry. The old wizard very rarely let his emotions show, but today the fury and grief were etched on his face visibly.  
  
"How is he, Poppy?"  
  
The Medi-witch shook her head.  
  
"Not good. I've healed all of his external injuries, but there's nothing I can do about his internal ones. It would be hard for most healthy people to heal, but he's so badly malnourished I. . ." she broke off and looked down at the floor. "I'm not sure if he'll make it."  
  
Dumbledore bowed his head for a moment.  
  
"Has Severus been here?"  
  
"Yes. . .he was hovering around like a giant overgrown bat while I was attempting to heal Harry. I sent him away to go and find you. It is important Harry is around people who care for him at the moment." Seeing Dumbledore's thoughtful expression, she added sharply,  
  
"And I don't think trying to get him expelled every term counts as caring."  
  
Albus smiled slightly, and, changing the subject, said,  
  
"Well, I would like to stay here, but I am afraid given the current state of the Ministry, Fudge will not permit me to miss this meeting. Please inform me the moment Harry's condition changes."  
  
"Yes, of course headmaster"  
  
Halfway out of the door, Dumbledore spoke.  
  
"And if Severus decides to come in again, he may stay as long as he wishes with Harry."  
  
Poppy, albeit reluctantly, nodded.  
  
*********************************  
  
Snape was sitting in his office, running his hands though his hair, when there was a nervous sounding tap on his door. Whoever had knocked was quite right to be worried, disturbing the feared potions master after curfew. With a sigh, he got to his feet, moodily kicking his chair as he passed it, and opened the door. Nothing. Angrily he turned away, when a voice whispered,  
  
"Hang on a minute! Let me in!"  
  
Confused, Snape looked around. There was nothing. And then, inside his office, a shimmering shape formed into Draco Malfoy, invisibility cloak over his arm.  
  
"Mr Malfoy" said Snape, trying to sound happy to see Lucius' son. "What brings you here at this hour?"  
  
"May I have a seat?" asked Draco politely, and Snape almost fell over. Draco NEVER asked. Let alone politely.  
  
"Oh. . .yes, of course" he said, quickly regaining his composure.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you, and not when others could hear me."  
  
"Oh." Said Snape. "Well, what was it?"  
  
He didn't know if it was his imagination, or whether Draco was flushing. A Malfoy NEVER flushed. Or did anything remotely resembling emotions, whether they be love, embarrassment, shame or anger.  
  
"I wanted to apologise. For the way I have treated you, for the way I have made you favour me. I am really sorry."  
  
Determined not to lose his cool again, Snape leaned back in the chair and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Admirable sentiments, Mr Malfoy. How. . ."  
  
"No!" exclaimed Draco, eyes flashing. "Please, don't call me that professor. Let me explain - listen to me. Please." His voice softened at the end, and despite himself Snape nodded and waved a hand.  
  
"My father took me to be initiated. I. . .I was to scared. I hated what they were doing. I knew I just couldn't do it. My father could tell, somehow. I was meant to be marked, and I tried to run but he pinned me down and they used the cruciatus on me. Voldemort was about to do it, and I apparated away, into muggle London"  
  
Seeing the exasperation on Snape's face he continued hurriedly  
  
"Into an alleyway, of course! Where else should I have gone? And then I ran. They would have found me if they'd looked, but it wasn't like I even knew the identity of any Death Eaters, and who would take the word of a boy? So I just stayed in muggle London, and came here at the start of term."  
  
Snape was silent for a moment. Finally he drew himself out the reverie he had fallen into, and said,  
  
"Draco, don't you think it was a bit stupid to tell me, me being a Death Eater myself?" He thrust out his forearm, and Draco merely smiled.  
  
"I know. And they know."  
  
Snape paled.  
  
"Impossible! How?"  
  
"I don't know. Didn't you wonder why you haven't been Summoned for so long? Voldemort is going to call you soon and kill you. Brutally and painfully."  
  
"And you know this how?"  
  
"I am not stupid" he said, sticking his chest out. "They were talking about vengeance being dealt out to the traitor in our midst."  
  
Snape swallowed inwardly. This was shaping up to be one of the worst days he could remember. And it was only the first evening of term.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. . .Draco, for the apology. If I might be so blunt, I am frankly relieved I will not have to spend this term pandering to you, your father or Voldemort. It will be a most refreshing change."  
  
Draco laughed.  
  
"If it's alright with you, I will call you Draco in every occasion. I presume you are out of touch with Narcissa as well?"  
  
Draco nodded.  
  
"I have no family."  
  
Snape nodded. Had Draco been in any other House, he would have said that his house would be his family. However, the Slytherins would turn on Draco, and few other would forgive him as readily as Snape had for his cruel behaviour.  
  
"You realise it will be very hard to fit in, Draco."  
  
"I know. I've already apologised to Hermione and Ron. I don't know about Ron, but Hermione seems to trust me."  
  
"Two Gryffindors, brave as they may be, aren't going to save you from the Slytherins, especially the children of Voldemort's supporters."  
  
Draco nodded soberly. "I don't think it's safe for me to stay in the Slytherin rooms. I was going to speak to the Headmaster."  
  
Snape nodded. "Yes, or I can talk on your behalf. Until then, I would like you to stay here."  
  
Draco nodded. And then, completely out of the blue:  
  
"Where's Harry?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?"  
  
"Where is Harry Potter?"  
  
Snape sighed.  
  
"I picked him up from his relatives. He had missed the train."  
  
Seeing that Snape wasn't going to say anything else, Draco nodded, and went to get his bags from the Slytherin rooms.  
  
***************************  
  
He woke up later that night feeling thirsty, and padded through to the main room of Snape's chambers. A letter lay on Snape's desk, next to a pile of marking, and Draco was unable to stop himself looking at it.  
  
  
  
'Dear Severus,  
  
If you are reading this, that we are dead, and Pettigrew has betrayed us. Yes, we switched Keepers at the last moment. Nobody except Dumbledore, Sirius and Pettigrew knew. And James and I, of course.  
  
I wish I could have told you before, Severus, I truly do. I love you, and I always have done. But something you never knew, is that I am a seer. Not a strong one; though a true one (unlike Sybil) I have seen what would befall you; I have seen how the future would turn out. However, I did not know how this would happen. It was I who asked James to switch the Secret Keeper, having seen our betrayal. I do not know whether I was right in this. I ask only two things; see that the Spy is caught and brought to justice, and take care of Harry.  
  
He is your son.  
  
Yes, Harry James Potter is your son. Do you remember our last night together? I certainly do. I knew I would have to leave you, for my safety and yours. I realised I was pregnant a short time later, and charms have revealed the baby to be yours. James was sad; but we have agreed to give the baby James' name, and allow Sirius the position of Godfather. He has also had charms placed on him which will ensure his resemblance to James, until his 15th birthday. After that, as you have received this letter, nobody else knows, you must tell Harry.  
  
Please, Severus, take care of him. Give him the family that I have seen he will never have due to my sister. Look past James in him, and please, I beg you, Severus, care for him as you would a child of your own.  
  
I remain your loving,  
  
Lily.'  
  
Draco gaped at the sheet of paper. It couldn't be. . .god no, not Snape, not Harry - it wasn't possible. . .Lily and Snape? How did nobody know about them?  
  
"How the hell could this have happened?"  
  
"In the normal way, Draco. I presume I don't have to give you the talk?"  
  
Professor Snape was standing behind Draco, wearing a grey night-gown and a very peeved expression.  
  
"Now, Draco, I know your father didn't set a lot of store by rules, but he surely taught you never to read other people's letters lest you find out something you'd rather not know?"  
  
Draco nodded, his cheeks flaming. He could hardly concentrate on Snape's lecture, the facts whirling around his head. Harry was Snape's son. . .Snape had a son. . .Snape and Lily had. . .ugh! No no no! Ugh!  
  
Snape put his face very close to Draco's.  
  
"If you breathe a word of this to anyone, I will take great pleasure in ripping you limb from limb, and hanging your scalp from the Astronomy Tower gargoyles."  
  
Draco swallowed, suddenly wishing he hadn't read the letter.  
  
"You will NEVER breathe a word of this to anyone again, understood?"  
  
Not trusting his voice, Draco merely nodded, and backed off.  
  
********************************  
  
Snape retreated to his bedroom. Merlin, what had possessed Draco to read THAT, of all things on his table. Aggravating little brat.  
  
But how was Snape going to tell Potter. . .Harry. . .Merlin, what was he even going to call the boy? How would the boy react? Thoughts rushed through Snape's head, whirling and dancing. Unsurprisingly, he didn't sleep that night.. . . 


	4. In the Library

Harry woke up. Everything was suffocatingly black, like the time Petunia had hit him in the face with a pan and broken his glasses. His breath started to come faster, and he clawed at the stiff unyielding sheets, trying to free himself in vain. He let out a whimpering moan of terror; surely he was blind, or dying, or anything. . .and every part of his body felt heavy, the numbness odd compared to the constant pain he had been in over the holidays. Regaining a tiny bit of strength, he pulled against the sheets that bound him again, and flung his arm to one side.  
  
A cool hand gripped his, and held it gently, stroking the scars that ran across the back of it.  
  
"It's ok. You will be ok; you must open your eyes though"  
  
Feeling ridiculous in spite of his terror and confusion, Harry realised that his eyes were jammed shut. Opening them cautiously, he blinked up at the black blur against the wall in confusion.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
He thought he must have imagined the gentle voice he heard earlier because now his Potions Master spoke harshly.  
  
"You have been asleep for a long time. It is important that you eat something."  
  
When Harry flexed his fingers lightly, the friendly had which had enclosed his was gone. And so was Snape.  
  
***************************************  
  
Snape opened the door to Pomfrey's office and didn't even look in as he said, "Potter's awake, Poppy. I'm going to inform the headmaster."  
  
Pomfrey grunted in affirmation and quickly went to Harry's bedside. She had repaired his glasses the night before and now placed them gently on his nose, simultaneously placing a bowl of plain soup in front of him.  
  
"Not hungry, thank you" he mumbled thickly. Frowning, Poppy put a hand on his forehead and felt the boy arch slightly towards the coolness.  
  
"You have a slight fever, but you have to eat something or you won't heal" she said gently.  
  
Just then Albus came in, his eyes twinkling.  
  
"Ah, Harry, how are you feeling?"  
  
"Fine thank you sir" said Harry in a flat voice.  
  
"Poppy, do you think I could have a few minutes alone with Harry?"  
  
Unwillingly, Poppy nodded and retreated to her office. It was never worth arguing with Albus.  
  
"Harry, what happened to you? You were in a terrible state when Professor Snape collected you. . ."  
  
Knowing that the headmaster would not be deterred, Harry nodded and spoke carefully.  
  
"In the muggle world. . .there are lots of small gangs. . .nothing like anything in the wizarding world. My cousin and I are part of one and there was a nasty fight. I was caught in the middle, and my friends didn't realise I wasn't there when they escaped. I had just got home when Professor Snape arrived and they were preparing to take me to the hospital."  
  
Dumbledore nodded, relief clear in his blue eyes.  
  
"I have, and always will maintain that muggles are one of the most violent races of this world. I do hope this will not happen again, Harry?"  
  
Harry shook his head, eyes wide, and smiled as well as he could while his face felt like it would split in two at any given moment.  
  
"I am going to the gymnasium with my cousin next holidays" seeing the look of confusion on the aged wizard's face, he elaborated. "It's a muggle place where you can get fit and strong."  
  
It was clear that Dumbledore didn't understand, but Harry wasn't too clear on the theory of gyms either and was running out of lies. He lay back on the pillows and the older wizard took the hint and left, mumbling something about gymnasiums under his breath, before Harry could ask why Snape had been sitting with him.  
  
***************************************  
  
Snape ran headlong into Dumbledore later on.  
  
"Ah, Severus. I am sure you will be relieved to know that Harry is healing well."  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow, doing his best to look uninterested.  
  
"Did he deign to tell you what happened?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded gravely.  
  
"He was involved in a street fight, something about muggle gangs. When he is better, I will have a word with him. It is not behaviour befitting for a Hogwarts student."  
  
Snape nodded, smiling maliciously, but was unable to stop himself from asking,  
  
"Why didn't his relatives take him to the Hospital then?"  
  
"Well, Severus, if truth be told, you did come at the best time. They were just about to go to the hospital, but Poppy's care is much preferable, don't you agree?"  
  
Snape nodded silently, furious. Why hadn't the stupid boy told Dumbledore?  
  
"Well, Headmaster, if that is all. . ."  
  
"Yes yes, Severus, go back to whatever foul tasting potion you are brewing down there" said Dumbledore with a smile and wave of his gnarled hand.  
  
Snape disappeared through a secret passage until he had heard Dumbledore's steps pass. He retraced his path back to the Hospital Wing, and slipped in through the half-open door. The Granger girl was sitting by Harry, talking softly.  
  
"Miss Granger, I think it is time you were back in your room, is it not?"  
  
She looked up, startled, and rose to her feet.  
  
"Sorry, Professor. Just going."  
  
He was silent as she left, before letting his carefully maintained mask fall down. His son. . .Lily's son. . .was battered and bruised to within an inch of his life. His pale skin was stretched tightly over Snape's cheekbones, and several long red scratches ran down his cheek.  
  
Snape's thought process suddenly stopped, and rewound. His son? His cheekbones? Rubbish! He slapped himself mentally.  
  
The boy is nothing to you, Severus. He is Lily's son, and he is happy like that.  
  
-Happy?- said another voice. -Oh yes, he must be ecstatic, living with a family of abusive muggles!-  
  
It is NOT your problem!  
  
-What when he starts to resemble you? Lily must have put strong charms on, but they won't last forever. What will you do then?-  
  
Silence.  
  
Taking a final look at the sleeping boy, he swept out of the room in a flurry of black robes, his thoughts in turmoil.  
  
********************************  
  
Harry woke up to the sound of the door banging shut. His head was spinning and he felt vaguely ill. He hadn't eaten anything for nearly a week since that Every Flavour Bean so how he could feel like he was going to throw up, he had no idea. But he was definitely going to be sick.  
  
With a groan he emptied his stomach and immediately fell asleep again, but woke up in 5 minutes.  
  
The night continued in much the same way; waking every five minutes from a fitful doze, throwing up, and trying to sleep again.  
  
Harry was aware he would have huge shadows under his eyes. He had tried everything; sleeping potions of the strongest kind which he had ventured into Knockturn Alley for; dreamless sleep draughts stolen from Madam Pomfrey's office; he had even hit his head against a wall repeatedly trying to knock himself out. But even in the worst of the beatings he had received from his relatives, unconsciousness had refused to claim him.  
  
And there was another problem. Dumbledore believed that Harry had been in a fight with some other boys, but surely whoever had found him would tell Dumbledore; after all, Harry had definitely been taken out of the cupboard by someone because he knew the Dursleys would never have let him out.  
  
But then. . .  
  
It must have been Snape! Any other person would have told Dumbledore the truth; Snape couldn't have cared in the slightest.  
  
His heart slightly lighter, Harry's mind wandered back to the more pressing matter of the fuss everyone would make if they knew about his lack of sleep. There was only one thing for it.  
  
Harry was going to have to go to the library.  
  
****************************  
  
Having persuaded Madam Pomfrey he had eaten loads and was feeling completely better, Harry had left the Hospital Wing as soon as he could the next morning and headed towards the library. Halfway down the corridor, the strangest feeling came upon him. He felt light headed and floaty, as though his brain was processing nerve impulses too slowly. Then the feeling grew and grew, until spots danced in front of his eyes, and he clutched at the wall desperately trying to stay upright.  
  
After shutting his eyes and taking steadying breaths for a few seconds, the world righted itself, and with a small shrug, Harry set off again to the library, albeit slower than previously.  
  
From around the corner, black eyes regarded him suspiciously.  
  
******************************  
  
Snape followed Harry around the corridors which he could tell were leading to the library. Years of spying and natural grace inherited from his mother had taught him to glide smoothly and silently around the corridors.  
  
He waited for a few moments as Potter entered the library; saw the boy exchange a few words with Madam Pince and disappear behind a large shelf of books. Muttering an invisibility charm, Snape followed the boy as he aimless wandered around the mounds of books. Every so often he would pause to get his bearings, and set off in another direction through the tomes. Eventually he found what he was looking for.  
  
"Ah!" he exclaimed aloud. "Found it!"  
  
Snape craned his head to look over Harry's shoulder at the book.  
  
'How to get the best sexual pleasures from your pet owl' AN im not sick, just thought it would be funny  
  
Snape, normally such a master of the expressionless face, stumbled backwards into a pile of books, choking. He heard Potter chuckling from above you.  
  
"Whoever you are, you really should learn to walk more quietly. I heard you following me all the way from outside."  
  
Face burning, Snape left as quickly - and quietly - as he could, trying to preserve his dignity.  
  
Harry allowed himself a small smirk at the choking sounds, and a grimace at the revolting book, and went back to the section on healing and concealing charms he had been searching for.  
  
Ten minutes later he had found out that healing charms didn't work on cuts or bruises and he knew that Pomfrey had healed all of his internal injuries. But concealing charms didn't sound so hard. He quickly transfigured a mirror and looked at himself. He gasped and dropped the mirror, which shattered on the floor. He had changed so much! His hair had grown and was straighter and his nose was slightly hooked. Disgusted, Harry fixed the mirror and took out his wand.  
  
'Obscuro' he muttered, imagining his normal face; or, how it had been at the start of the holidays, with only a few bruises. He felt a tingle through his bones and looked into the mirror. Perfect. It looked like the bruises were fading.  
  
**************************************  
  
Harry was fairly upbeat from then on. Nobody would find out what had happened, the bruises would fade, nobody would ever see the scars and life would go back to normal. Until Dumbledore found his outside the library.  
  
"Ah, Harry! It has come to my attention that you need to collect your belongings from your relatives house. Of course, you will be resuming lessons tomorrow, so have prepared a portkey for you myself, which ill bypass the wards around your home and take you straight into the house. You can take as long as you like saying goodbye to your relatives, as long as you are back by tomorrow."  
  
Dumbledore smiled happily.  
  
"Take care, Harry!" he said, and pressed the portkey into Harry's hand. With a jerk, Harry felt the world dissolve, and landed a split second later in the Dursley's kitchen. They were standing around a table leering unpleasantly, and as Vernon moved towards him, Harry had a brief thought.  
  
Welcome to Hell 


	5. Alterna Vocis

Harry looked around, uneasiness growing rapidly into panic. His uncle stood across the table from him, Petunia on his right and Dudley on his left. There was a grin on his piggy face.  
  
"How nice of you to come back, Harry. We prepared a special leaving party for you. . ."  
  
Harry tried not to let his paralysing terror show on his face. He looked Vernon squarely in the eye and spoke as calmly as he could.  
  
"Don't you think they'll be suspicious at Hog. . .my school. . .if I go back with a black eye?"  
  
Vernon laughed, and Petunia giggled.  
  
"Well, since you claim to be a wizard, then surely you can figure out how to hide them? I'm sure you would hate to admit that you can't even stand up to your carers."  
  
Harry flinched; how had Vernon realised? The one thing he was more scared of than anything; people finding out that perfect, famous Harry Potter couldn't stand up to a few muggles.  
  
As he had been thinking, Vernon strode over to him, and grasped him by the shoulders, smirking as Harry stiffened.  
  
"Scared, boy?"  
  
Harry was terrified.  
  
**********************************  
  
A/N I am not going to write another beating scene, also this fic is rape free. There will be flashbacks later.  
  
************************************  
  
Bloody and battered, Harry portkeyed back to Hogwarts at 1.00am the next morning. He cast his healing charms as quickly as he could, which was lucky since he ran into Snape on his way back to the Common Room. Snape regarded him with an eyebrow raised.  
  
"Why are you out this early, Potter?"  
  
Sadly there was no way he could take off points, as it was the morning, and curfew didn't apply.  
  
"I was seeing Professor Dumbledore" said Harry flatly.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor for talking back. Now get back to your common room." Said Snape coldly. Silently, Harry complied, leaving Snape to stare at the boys retreating back.  
  
************************************  
  
The next morning they had Transfiguration, Charms and then Potions. Harry sat down with Ron and Hermione, who were tactfully silent for a few moments before Ron couldn't resist anymore and exclaimed,  
  
"Where have you been? Are you alright?"  
  
Harry smiled as cheerfully as he could.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. I was in a street fight, went a bit wrong, but I'm pretty much all healed now."  
  
Ron looked quizzically at Hermione, who laughed.  
  
"I promise, Ron, I'll get you a book on Muggle Culture for your birthday. You know nothing about anything muggle related!"  
  
"Yes, but when would I ever NEED to?" whined Ron.  
  
"What if you were trapped in the muggle world? You wouldn't know how to use a telephone, what currency to use. . ."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes at Harry imploringly and Harry laughed. Just then Professor McGonagall came in.  
  
"Right, class, we will be continuing trying to accomplish the voice transfiguration again today. Don't be disheartened, it took me myself several years to master it. It is one of the hardest transfigurations you will ever learn in school, and I would be surprised if any of you got it right this year. It is very advanced magic, and normally would not be on the syllabus, but Professor Dumbledore thinks it will be a good idea considering the current. . .political climate. . .to learn some disguising techniques.  
  
Now, get out your notes from last week, partner up, Miss Granger with Mister Longbottom, and Neville, please try not to do anything irreversible to Hermione, the rest of you may take the partner of your choice. Mr Potter, come here."  
  
Harry went to the front desk.  
  
"As I said, this is a very advanced transfiguration" said McGonagall once she had checked everyone was working well. "I will understand if you want to copy up the notes this week and attempt it next week, or you may just read the notes and have a go today. It is very difficult to damage your partner. Which will you choose?"  
  
Harry considered.  
  
"I think I'd like to try it today, please, professor" he said. McGonagall smiled.  
  
"Good boy. Read Miss Granger's notes and then work with Mr Weasley."  
  
Harry skimmed over the notes. It didn't seem that hard; just a question of having the mental strength to force his magic into Ron. Apparently the transformation was even harder on yourself, because you had to imagine the voice tone you wanted as clearly as possible, but obviously speaking the incantation would remind you of your current voice. But still, anything was worth a try.  
  
Ron had several goes, each one unproductive, until with a long-suffering sigh he threw his wand down.  
  
"Oh, you have a go Harry. This is bloody impossible. Even Hermione can't do it."  
  
Harry stared at Ron, trying to clear his mind. He reminded himself of the beatings, of how he had detached his mind from Vernon and the pain, and how he had overcome the Imperius the previous year. Then he put an image of a girl's high pitched squeal into his mind, and spoke the incantation.  
  
"Alterna Vocis!"  
  
However as he did so, Ron spoke in his normal voice. "Anytime this day, Harry! Oops, sorry, didn't realise you'd started."  
  
Harry grimaced. "I nearly had it, Ron! Let me try it again."  
  
"Fat chance, mate. I mean, no offence, but if 'Mione can't do it, how could you?"  
  
"Look, Ron, just give me a chance! It was my first go!"  
  
Grumbling, Ron subsided and stood silent.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and again willed himself to imagine the classroom was not there; nobody was there; nothing existed.  
  
"Alterna Vocis!"  
  
He felt the magic surge through him, and along his wand. Nothing tangible happened, or so he and Ron thought, until McGonagall looked up sharply.  
  
"What was that?" she demanded.  
  
"I don't know, Professor" said Harry softly.  
  
"What was. . .EEK!" exclaimed Ron. His voice had risen several octaves, and every word came out as a high pitched squeal. "Harry! What in Merlin's name have you done to me?"  
  
Harry gulped.  
  
"Um. . .sorry, Ron. . ."  
  
McGonagall had risen and was looking shrewdly at Harry.  
  
"Mr Potter, please restore your friend's voice and then come with me. Everyone else, dismissed. You have free time until your next lesson."  
  
When Harry had given Ron his normal voice back, blushing furiously, he followed McGonagall back to her office. She threw a handful of the powder Snape had once used to call Lupin into the fireplace, and called Dumbledore's name. The wise old wizard's head appeared in the flames.  
  
"Ah, Minerva, can I help you?"  
  
"Yes, Albus, can I have a word regarding Mr Potter?"  
  
Dumbledore's head disappeared and then his whole body stepped out of the fireplace.  
  
"Minerva, Harry, how can I be of assistance?"  
  
"Young Mr Potter here" said McGonagall, giving Harry the impression he had done something terrible, "just completed the Alterna Vocis transfiguration on his second attempt!"  
  
Dumbledore tilted his head and looked at Harry over the top of his glasses.  
  
"Hmm, that's interesting, Minerva. Maybe he should be given a new assignment next week. How about. . .permanent transfiguration? That should keep him occupied for some time."  
  
McGonagall looked shocked.  
  
"But Albus - what if it goes wrong?"  
  
Albus' eyes seemed to lose their twinkle.  
  
"I believe it is a risk worth taking."  
  
There was an awkward silence, and then Harry cleared his throat.  
  
"What could go wrong?"  
  
"Permanent transfiguration is not practised at N.E.W.T. level, mainly because it is the basis for many Dark Arts. You see. . .as the name says, it is irreversible. If it goes wrong, something could become permanently disfigured. For instance, a student, if your aim went wrong."  
  
Harry blanched slightly, but didn't argue. He had seen the determination in Dumbledore's eyes.  
  
"But sir. . .why do you want me to learn it?"  
  
There was a long pause, and Dumbledore spoke, looking older than he had for some time.  
  
"We cannot shield you from Voldemort for much longer, Harry. You must learn more dangerous spells than 'expelliarmus' to defeat him. We will not teach you Dark Arts as such, but should you find books around the school and receive the basis of Dark Training and decide to teach yourself Dark Protection, we would not stand in your way."  
  
Harry was silent, but nodded.  
  
"You may go now, Harry. Thank you for informing me Minerva."  
  
McGonagall nodded, and led Harry out of her office.  
  
"You should go to your next lesson now" she said.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Why did you make me turn Ron's voice back?"  
  
"Because I couldn't myself." She said softly. "And I think mister Weasley would prefer his normal voice."  
  
With a nod, she rounded the corner, and Harry went off in the other direction to charms.  
  
*********************************  
  
Flitwick nodded to Harry as he went in.  
  
"Professor Dumbledore explained where you were, Harry. We're revising a few basic spells and then we will be duelling for the rest of the lesson."  
  
This was another ad reminder of Voldemort's return. Gone were the funny charms and useless transfigurations they had studied previously. Now they were practising duelling, transfiguring disguises and Harry was willing to bet that they would be doing something useful in potions. Yet another chance for Snape to mock and taunt him.  
  
Harry's angry thoughts were distracted by Flitwick announcing the start of the duelling in a bright voice. He moved towards Ron, but saw he was partnered with Hermione. Oddly, everybody had a partner. Harry walked over to Flitwick who smiled.  
  
"No matter, Harry, you can help me judge."  
  
The duelling was boring. Few people used any more interesting charms than stupefy or expelliarmus. In the end, Harry and Flitwick agreed that Pavarti was the overall winner, but Harry could tell by the worried look on the tiny wizard's face that he was worried.  
  
Expelliarmus was little against the Cruciatus.  
  
****************************  
  
When everyone else had filtered out for lunch, Flitwick held Harry back.  
  
"Harry, I want you to research as many curses, charms and hexes as you can. You will be meeting me in your divination lessons for duelling practice. It will be no holds barred, except for the Unforgivables, obviously, so be sure to know some blocking spells!"  
  
Groaning inwardly, harry decided he didn't want any lunch. His head was throbbing from lack of sleep and his eyes were sore. He flopped down on his bed in the Dormitory and yelled from the pain, thanking Merlin that everyone was at lunch. Gently he undid the concealing charms and transfigured a mirror.  
  
"Ooh what happened to you, dear?" asked the mirror. Annoyed, Harry silenced it with a wave of his wand, and looked at the damage.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Flashback ~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He curled up on the floor, shirt off his back, as Vernon kicked his ribs brutally, and then there was silence and a soft grunt. He heard a swish and crack, and instinctively flinched although the whip didn't touch him. That time.  
  
CRACK  
  
He screamed out in pain and the whip came down again.  
  
CRACK - CRACK - CRACK  
  
However much later it was, his voice was broken from the repeated screaming, and he was slumped over a chair beaten and bleeding.  
  
Alone.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End Flashback ~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Too soon, it was time for Potions, and he recast the concealing charms, forcing his aching limbs out of the bed.  
  
*******************************  
  
Snape whirled around the classroom. Potter was late. Stupid boy. Couldn't possibly be his son. James through and through, with that arrogance.  
  
A nasty voice in his head said oh well, at least you're never arrogant  
  
He came to Neville, simply raised an eyebrow, and watched the terror mount in the boy's face. Shame really, had he any parents he would probably be different and more magical than your average Squib. But Snape hated thinking about Susan and Frank Longbottom. It brought back too many memories of the Death Eaters. Lucius' triumphant expression when he announced to Voldemort his 'first blood' had been two of the greatest aurors of the time. The feeling in Snape's stomach when he saw how one of his schoolfriends had gone insane.  
  
It was ironic, how the offspring of two of Snape's only friends were the ones he treated worst out of the whole class. Merlin, he hated irony.  
  
**********************************  
  
Harry looked at his watch. He had a while, no need to hurry. He rounded the corner and realised there wasn't even anyone outside the classroom. Maybe Snape was in there and would let him sit down. He was so tired. . .  
  
He looked through the door and his heart jumped. How had this happened? The whole class was in action, brewing and stirring. He looked at his watch in horror. Why? What had happened?  
  
He jumped back, praying that Snape had not seen him, and leaned against the old stone walls. He didn't know if it was his overactive imagination, but it felt like they were whispering soothing words to him, reassuring him.  
  
It was probably just lack of sleep, or the walls were lying, because the door slammed open and Snape appeared in the doorway.  
  
Harry's luck seemed to run as far as keeping him alive but miserable, so he didn't even think of cursing any gods as Snape glowered - for want of a stronger word - at him. There couldn't be any gods. And Snape. . .well, Snape looked like he wanted to rip him limb from limb, feed his genitals to Mrs Norris, club his barely alive head with a severed arm and drink Harry's blood before turning his still beating heart inside out. With these graphic pictures in his head, it was hardly surprising that the only noise Harry could make was a choked squeak.  
  
Snape was bearing down on him and suddenly, through half-closed eyes he seemed to be growing, his face expanding and reddening, bellowing words, and Harry sank to the floor shaking, curled up, begging it all to go away and not hurt him.  
  
****************************  
  
Snape was furious. The cheek of the boy! To peer through the door and then try and hide; Snape could have killed him gladly. He opened the door and was gratified to see the pure terror on the boy's face. If anything, since learning he was Potter's father, Snape's hatred had intensified for him even more. He took a step forward and another, snarling, and Potter cowered back against the wall. But this wasn't funny any more; he was shaking violently and whispering "Stop it, please, no, I'm sorry, please, no. . ."  
  
Snape regarded the boy and stepped back a pace.  
  
"Where have you been?"  
  
He looked up through his rapidly growing hair, eyes wide.  
  
"I am so sorry, sir, I got the time confused."  
  
Snape snorted.  
  
"Of course you did, Potter. Of course you weren't too lazy and arrogant to turn up to my lesson."  
  
"Arrogant? How does arrogant come into this?"  
  
"You DARE to talk back to me?"  
  
Harry swallowed.  
  
Snape decided against moving closer to Potter; he didn't want to give the Boy-Who-Lived a heart attack before he had defeated Voldemort.  
  
"50 points from Gryffindor, and detention in here tonight. It will be another 50 if you're late. Well, what are you waiting for? Go!"  
  
Harry walked around the corner as quickly as he could, leaning against the wall in exhaustion as soon as he was out of sight.  
  
"What a day" he muttered to himself.  
  
  
  
***** NO CLIFFIE! I'm so proud grins thanks for all the reviews. Btw, what exactly does rnrn mean? ***************** 


	6. Sad news, painful truths

Harry sank slowly into a soft chair and pulled out his potions textbook, thinking he might as well revise seeing as Snape was bound to make him do something like cleaning out acidic cauldrons this evening. He might as well be prepared.  
  
Before he knew it, the bell had rung and the Gryffindors traipsed in. Seamus looked at Harry.  
  
"You alright, Harry? Bad luck about the points. Snape wasn't half in a mean mood today."  
  
Dean nodded. "You should have heard him yelling at Neville" he said softly. "He mentioned his parents, saying that they would be ashamed. Neville's so upset. Did you know what happened to them?"  
  
Harry nodded sadly. "Dumbledore told me last year not to tell anyone. I found out by accident."  
  
They were silent for a few moments before Seamus said mutedly "Fancy a game of Chess, Harry?"  
  
"No thanks, Seamus, I'm reading at the moment."  
  
"Potions!" exclaimed Ron, who had sneaked up on Harry.  
  
Harry smiled flatly. "I thought Snape would give me something evil to do this. . ."  
  
He broke off as Ron grabbed his arm. "Me and Hermione want to talk to you in private."  
  
"Hermione and I" corrected the clever witch, making Harry smile genuinely. However Ron looked really annoyed.  
  
"Whatever, are you coming or not?"  
  
Wordlessly Harry put down the book and followed Ron and Hermione outside into the corridor.  
  
"Where did you learn that magic?" asked Ron bluntly.  
  
Harry's face wrinkled in annoyance. He didn't like Ron's accusing tone.  
  
"I don't know." He replied flatly.  
  
Ron flushed angrily.  
  
"Don't you think you've been a bit unfair to us? Not writing for the whole summer, not turning up on the train, not telling us anything? We were worried sick, Harry, worried sick and you never even bothered to tell us what was going on. And now you come back with all this magic, and don't explain that either. Isn't our friendship worth more than that?"  
  
Harry was furious.  
  
"And what exactly is that meant to mean?"  
  
"It means exactly this. If you aren't going to be there for Hermione and I, then we aren't going to be there for you. I bet you don't have any idea that you forgot 'Mione's birthday, or Ginny's, do you?"  
  
Harry flushed, answering Ron's question without speaking.  
  
"You're being unfair, Ron. Hermione. . ." he looked at her but she averted her eyes.  
  
"Hermione!"  
  
"Ron's right, Harry. We need explanations, and good ones. Otherwise I don't see how we can still be friends. We've been there for you through everything, and you've been away whenever we need you. Friends are always there for each other."  
  
There was silence as Harry looked at his friends in horror. Ron's face was expressionless, Hermione's sad, as they realised he had no excuse, nothing to say.  
  
Wordlessly, Ron turned and walked into the Common Room, Hermione behind him.  
  
Neither of them looked back.  
  
********************************  
  
Harry stood staring at the wall for several minutes, before entering and walking upstairs. Ron and Hermione were sitting in the corner ignoring him, or not noticing. Did it really matter which?  
  
Dean was coming downstairs and looked sympathetically at Harry.  
  
"I heard what happened with you and Ron and 'Mione - I'm sorry, Harry."  
  
Harry shrugged.  
  
"It's ok. I'm just going to sleep. . .don't wake me!"  
  
Dean smiled and nodded, continuing down the stairs, and Harry let the smile fall from his face. Merlin, he deserved this. He was such a terrible friend.  
  
He eased himself into bed, and lay staring at the ceiling. His stomach grumbled but he didn't care. His head throbbed but he ignored it. He just lay and stared. Some time later he heard footsteps and closed his aching eyes, feigning sleep. There were gentle footsteps and then silence.  
  
"Harry?" it was Seamus.  
  
The Irish boy gently shook Harry, who realised he couldn't fake sleeping this deeply. He rubbed his eyes and looked up.  
  
"Hey Seamus."  
  
"Harry, sorry to wake you, but Snape'll kill you if you miss detention. . ."  
  
Harry jumped; he hadn't realised the time. He leaped out of bed, ignoring the pain of the lashes that had been inflicted on his back.  
  
"Thanks, Seamus. I'll see you later."  
  
"Hey, Harry, you haven't eaten any. . ." Seamus' words died on his lips as Harry sprinted out of the room and down the stairs to his detention.  
  
***************************  
  
Snape watched the seconds tick by like a child waiting for Christmas. Twenty seconds and he could have another 50 points off Gryffindor. 18, 17, 16. Maybe he wouldn't come at all. That was a serious offence. 13, 12, 11. He could get him expelled. 10, 9, 8. Stupid arrogant boy. Just like James. 7,6,5. This was just a joke by Lupin. It wasn't true. But tonight he would find out. 4,3,2.  
  
Knock knock  
  
Annoyed with the boy for being on time, Snape opened the door and let Harry in.  
  
"I need to make a potion. You will help me. Come."  
  
He beckoned and Harry silently followed him. Snape's heart was pounding. He knew he never got potions wrong. This one was to show the test subject's true parentage. This was the potion that would tell the truth about Harry's life.  
  
He managed to pluck a hair from Harry's head from behind without the boy noticing, and when the potion was done he dismissed the boy curtly. If he was surprised at getting away so quickly, he didn't say anything. In fact, he was unusually quiet. Snape wondered why.  
  
Palms sweating, he approached the cauldron as though it were a dangerous beast.  
  
He dropped the strand of Harry's hair into the potion shakily and watched. The transformation took and excruciatingly long time; the clear liquid swirled around as though stirred by an invisible hand, before parting in the middle and rejoining. In the middle of the whirlpool was Lily's face. Just as well, really. Snape couldn't cope with that much shock.  
  
And then, with bated breath he watched the potion swirl again. Lily's face disappeared, and in the whirl of water, as though looking into a mirror, he saw himself scowling out of the cauldron. He was so absorbed that he did not even hear his door open, and didn't register the body behind him until his knees buckled and he began to shake. Strong arms wrapped themselves around him and the scratchy beard tickled his cheek as Dumbledore whispered soothing words into his ears as, for the first time since Lily's death, Snape allowed himself to cry.  
  
**************************  
  
Dumbledore saw Harry heading off in the other direction from Snape's rooms and decided to investigate. The first thing he noticed was that Snape's door was unlocked which was odd, as Snape was so suspicious he kept it magically secure at all times. Dumbledore entered the room and looked over at Snape, who was bent over a cauldron gazing into it, and at last Dumbledore realised what was going on. The one thing Snape had complete faith in was his potions. He would be checking Harry's real parents.  
  
He was standing behind Snape, looking over his shoulder. Lily's face dissolved into the depths of the cauldron and then Snape's visage appeared. With a strangled cry, Snape stumbled back and Dumbledore caught him, feeling the man's tears soaking his robe.  
  
"Sssh Severus, it will be alright. Everything will be alright, everything will be fine."  
  
*************************  
  
Harry was halfway back to the Common Room when he realised he had left his bag in the Potions Room. He had no wish whatsoever to go anywhere near Snape, but he had a lot of homework and if he was not going to sleep that night he might as well work in the Common Room. And he had no wish to see Ron or Hermione at the moment. After all, he told himself, if he was caught out of bed he had a perfectly good excuse.  
  
He crept around the corner, hoping he could sneak in without being noticed. Then he heard the sound of sobbing, and a lower voice speaking softly. Curious, he rounded the corner and almost gasped aloud. Snape was in Dumbledore's arms, shaking with tears, as the headmaster tried to console him. He could only hear snatches. Snape sobbing repeatedly,  
  
"It can't be Albus. No fates could be so cruel! Albus, please don't let it be!"  
  
"It's alright, Severus. The past will not govern the future. It is never to late to forgive and forget."  
  
Harry wrinkled his brow. It had sounded at first as though Snape had lost a family member, but then what did Dumbledore mean about the future? Deciding he didn't want his bag that badly, Harry headed up to the Common Room as quickly as he could.  
  
It was cold and dark, and he couldn't see anything. There were voices running around his head, cutting into each other. They called out to him; "Harry, Potter, Harry" and then merged and warped into high pitched cackles. "Murderer! Traitor!"  
  
Harry awoke with a start, sweating. He must have fallen asleep on the chair. He was still shaking. Bloody nightmares.  
  
****************************  
  
They had double potions the next morning, and Harry wasn't looking forward to it. Although, maybe Snape would be ill. Maybe. His hopes were dashed as Snape billowed in as usual, and Harry almost wondered if he had imagined last night. Suddenly, randomly, he wondered what the potion he had helped Snape make last night had been. It seemed, in retrospect, like Snape had kicked him out right before it was finished. And that was odd, for Snape.  
  
He muddled his way through the lesson, managing to pick up his bag on the way out, and headed to charms to revise counter curses.  
  
He didn't feel like he could stomach lunch. After reapplying the concealing charms, he settled into a chair in the common room and started looking through his potions textbook. He didn't find anything that matched the ingredients he had used the previous night, but suddenly realised it was like a puzzle. In one potion, boomslang skin mixed with powdered mandrake root could make a very basic version of veritaserum, and in another veritaserum combined with asphodel created a mixture that would show pictures in the cauldron. None of the other ingredients he had used were in the book, but it gave him food for thought. Snape was trying to find out the truth about something, something which he didn't want Harry to know about, and something which Dumbledore knew about, which had really upset Snape. Again, Harry wished he hadn't lost Ron and Hermione. The witch in particular was invaluable in times like this.  
  
What did it all mean? And why had Snape asked for his help with the potion?  
  
********************************  
  
Transfiguration was easy. The permanent transfiguration was surprisingly easy, as long as one used the right wrist movement. It had taken Harry a very short time to master it, and McGonagall was amazed and a little scared. Knowing that he was more powerful than her, Harry was a little scared himself.  
  
******************************  
  
He had duelling that lunchtime. And it hurt like hell. His shields were broken easily by Flitwick who had no trouble simply evading Harry's curses. He persisted in casting ones like stinging or biting spells, which Harry had to counter at the same time as keeping his weak shielding spells up. Eventually Flitwick called it a day, and invited Harry to sit down. Harry sat, relaxing for the first time in ages, and was disarmed and knocked across the room in an instant.  
  
"Never turn your back on an enemy" squeaked Flitwick cheerfully. Harry could have gladly throttled him. He was also tempted to transfigure him into a bludger to get rid of some of that excess energy but thought in his tired state he might well irreversibly alter the Duelling Champion's persona. Which Dumbledore would be really angry about. Shame.  
  
"That will do for today. See you tomorrow lunchtime!"  
  
Harry nodded, trying to muster up a cheerful smile and failing miserably. He slouched out of the room, and leaned against the cool wall, resting his aching head.  
  
"I can't do this, Dumbledore" he whispered to nobody in particular. "It's too much; I can't cope with this." Not noticing the dark figure around the corner, he headed back to the common room, as quickly as he could considering the pain in his back.  
  
*********************************  
  
Snape watched his son silently, his heart breaking. Why did it have to be him? It would have been better for them both to remain ignorant. And why did Potter have to hold the hopes of the wizarding world on his shoulders?  
  
**********************************  
  
Harry didn't sleep that night. He felt sick and dizzy constantly, and didn't trust himself enough to go to Quidditch practice. He couldn't really be bothered, it would take up so much time and effort. Had he looked in a mirror without his concealing charms he would have been horrified. His eyes were red and swollen, his lips pale and cracked, and his normally unruly hair completely wild over his gaunt face. He was still covered in bruises and knew the welts on his back weren't healing properly.  
  
Everything hurt.  
  
**********************************  
  
Snape watched the Gryffindors file out of his classroom at the end of the lesson after the Slytherins. He flashed a small smile at Draco, who was last out, and was just about to lock the room up when he realised Potter hadn't left. Odd; he could have sworn he had seen him at the start of the lesson. He glanced around the room and suddenly realised the boy was still at his desk, head in his hands.  
  
"Potter!"  
  
There was no response, he lay still though Snape could see his chest rising and falling. He strode over to the boy and grasped his shoulder roughly. With a pained yelp, Harry shot out of his seat and clattered to the floor, wincing in obvious pain as he tried to sit up and gave up. Snape held out a hand, amazing himself, and Potter took it. He hauled the boy to his feet and realised a split second too slowly that Harry would collapse again. As he lay semi-conscious and sprawled on the cold floor, Snape swept him up in his arms, noting the blood on the floor, and carried him to his private chambers.  
  
It's now or never, Severus.  
  
He removed the boys robes and the concealing charms which he could sense and his stomach lurched at the state of the boy, although his face remained expressionless. He healed him as well as he could, and cleaned the boy's robes before putting them back on. Right on cue, Harry stirred and opened his eyes, making Snape flinch. They were red and puffy from lack of sleep.  
  
"What. . .?"  
  
"Harry. . .I. . .I. . .I. . ."  
  
Harry looked at him curiously.  
  
"You what?"  
  
"I need to tell you something. You don't need to go back to those muggles, Harry. You have family."  
  
The colour faded from Harry's face and he gaped at Snape.  
  
It's now or never, Severus  
  
"Harry. . .I'm your father." 


	7. Reactions and repercussions

Harry looked at Snape and his expression hardened.  
  
"You bastard! This is some kind of sick joke to get back at my father, isn't it?"  
  
Snape's eyes flashed angrily but Harry didn't care.  
  
"He's dead now, why isn't that good enough? Why do you have to involve him in this?"  
  
"10 points from Gryffindor, for talking back to a teacher." Snarled Snape. To his surprise, Harry laughed outright.  
  
"That's all you are, Professor. Just a professor. After all, what sort of father would hate his son so much? What sort of father would victimise his family for four years and then suddenly expect the son to live with him? I'd rather live with the Dursleys than you!"  
  
Seeing that Snape would probably explode if he opened his mouth, harry drew himself up to his full height and said: "I think that was all you wanted to say to me? Rest assured Dumbledore will be hearing of this conversation." And with that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, robes billowing behind him.  
  
Snape was livid. How dare the boy talk like that to him? His mind whirled. Surely Potter. . .no! Snape! didn't honestly mean he would rather live with a family of abusive muggles than Snape?  
  
Well, I would remarked his inner voice dolefully. Not feeling up to discussing the Potter Problem with anyone, let alone his deranged inner psyche, Snape snarled at it, and it subsided. To be quickly replaced by an equally annoying voice from outside the door.  
  
"You told him, didn't you Severus?"  
  
"Go away, Lupin."  
  
"Well, what are you going to do about it?"  
  
"Ignore it externally and take it out on my students."  
  
"You know that if you take all that out on students you'll end up in Azkaban?"  
  
Snape rolled his eyes.  
  
"Which part of 'Go away, Lupin' did you not understand?"  
  
The annoying werewolf ignored him and sank into a chair, bouncing experimentally on the springs which emitted a squeak at the same time as Snape emitted an angry growl. Lupin desisted, but kept his eyes locked onto Snape's.  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"He told me that he'd rather live with the Dursleys than with me." Replied Snape dully, unable to hide the disappointment from Lupin. Damn werewolf senses. Lupin winced.  
  
"That's not good."  
  
"Observant today, are we?"  
  
They both fell into a brooding silence, Lupin looking at Snape who was regarding the flames of the flickering fire. At length Lupin spoke.  
  
"You do realise that there is a class of first years waiting for you to begin your lesson, don't you?"  
  
Snape groaned. "Tell them to go away. I want to drink poison."  
  
Remus shook his head. "That won't help anything. Least of all Harry."  
  
"Why should I give a damn about him? He is James through and through. There is nothing of me in him; it could as well have been a prank. He hates me, and I hate him, and that's the way it should. . .erk!"  
  
Lupin smiled inwardly as he held Snape against the wall with one hand. Sirius and James would be so proud. He snarled at the potions master, "You just told him you were his biological father, were you expecting him to hug you and cry daddy onto his shoulder? Were you expecting him to forgive four years of hatred and misery? Didn't you even consider the fact that his world has just been turned upside down? He's modelled himself on James for as long as he can remember. And now you tell him, NOW! That he has a father, a father who has tormented him for so long? And expect everything to be fine?"  
  
"Admirable sentiments, Remus" came a gently amused voice from behind Lupin, making the werewolf drop Snape who landed in a very undignified heap on the floor.  
  
"Now, Severus, I have dismissed your class and I think it would be best for you to have a little chat with Remus. I am currently trying to calm Harry down, as he is a little distressed by what you told him. I also heard that you took House Points?"  
  
There was a twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes as Snape flushed slightly and Lupin sighed loudly and rolled his eyes.  
  
"You took House Points because your son hexed you for finding out you slept with his mother?" demanded Lupin. Snape looked baffled.  
  
"He didn't hex me!"  
  
"Patience of a saint, then" muttered Lupin darkly. "I would have."  
  
****************************  
  
Dumbledore sighed and looked at Harry. Right now he looked pale and frightened but his face was set and there was a mulish tilt to his jaw.  
  
"Severus didn't mean to hurt you, Harry."  
  
"I don't care. Professor Snape had no right to talk about my parents like that. He is implying that my mother is a slut!"  
  
Dumbledore winced slightly. This was going to be hard.  
  
"I'm sure he didn't mean that, Harry. He's as confused as you are, you know. . ."  
  
Harry nodded, his eyes blank. They continued like this for a few minutes, until Dumbledore finally gave up.  
  
"Well, Harry, if you ever need to talk, feel free to come here."  
  
Harry nodded silently and walked out of the office.  
  
*******************************  
  
The next morning he flatly refused to go to potions. He went to all his other lessons, catching a few minutes sleep in History of Magic, and spilling magical compost on himself during Herbology, which gave him an excuse to go to the Infirmary. He pretended to sleep until past halfway through the Potions class when he went back up to the common room.  
  
*******************************  
  
Snape noticed Harry wasn't in potions. He hadn't been at breakfast either. Against his better judgement he went to the Infirmary but Harry wasn't there either, though Pomfrey reluctantly told him Harry had been in after Herbology but had just left.  
  
That evening Snape arrived at dinner early and left late, but saw no sign of his son. He didn't turn up for any lessons the next day, and Snape overheard the Thomas boy saying softly that Harry wouldn't get up. He trailed Thomas and Finnigan and heard the Irish boy saying that harry hadn't eaten in nearly a week. His heart sank. What was the boy doing to himself? And what could Snape do?  
  
Eventually he decided to ask the house elves in the kitchen to let him know when they delivered food to Harry. If in twenty-four hours he had heard nothing then he would go into the Gryffindor Rooms and try to talk to the boy.  
  
****************** 24 hours later *****************  
  
Snape swirled up to the Gryffindor common room, his customary glare on his face but excessive worry deep inside. Harry hadn't been to any lessons for two days and was apparently not eating either. At least he must be sleeping enough, he thought, trying to reassure himself.  
  
All the other Gryffindors were in lessons, but from the Dormitory on the left Snape heard a deep sigh and an odd sounding thunk. He quietly opened the door and looked in. Harry had taken the concealing charms off and looked terrible. His head was bruised all around, his eyes red rimmed with huge dark circles carved in the flesh underneath, and his cheekbones could have cut cheese they jutted out so far. The source of the bruises was apparent as Harry seemed to be hitting his head firmly against the wall. With a cry Snape rushed forward and pulled Harry away from the wall.  
  
"What in Merlin's name are you doing?" he demanded. Harry shrugged, his eyes unfocussed.  
  
"I couldn't sleep."  
  
Shocked, horrified, Snape reached out to touch Harry but the boy leaped away from him, eyes wild.  
  
"Don't come near me!"  
  
Snape's pain showed on his face for a fleeting second, and Harry felt a little guilty. But. . .even if Snape had only just found out, why had he never given Harry the link to his mother that he could have had through the years? How could he have loved Lily so much if he would put her only son through hell?  
  
As though it was a great effort, Snape moved away slowly. Contrary to what people believed, he did have a caring side, one only his Slytherins saw in private and in desperate situations, and Harry was in such a bad state. . .  
  
"Is there anything I can do?" he asked softly, hardly daring to look into the bloodshot eyes.  
  
"Yes. Leave me alone. Forget about me."  
  
Snape shook his head. "I can't do that."  
  
Harry laughed; a hollow, mirthless sound that made Snape think of a long black tunnel.  
  
"Of course you can."  
  
"Harry, if you don't let me help you in some way then I'll have to take you to Poppy - unconscious if I must."  
  
Harry glared at him, looking surprisingly Snape-ish.  
  
"I am going to bed to get some much needed rest, professor. I would appreciate it if you would just let me sleep."  
  
Guarding his expression, Snape said "Would you like a Dreamless Sleep Potion? Or should I summon your friends?"  
  
"No!" said Harry forcefully. "Just leave me alone!"  
  
Unable to keep his tears back any longer, Harry turned away to stare at the wall. There was silence for a few moments, and he heard Snape's footsteps hesitantly come closer. Merlin, did this man have no idea when to leave him alone? He grew tenser as the man moved nearer, like s spring coiling up, until he felt a knot of raw magic curling at the bottom of his stomach. Desperately, he hissed "Get out!" through gritted teeth, trying to restrain his magic. Snape stopped dead, but Harry couldn't control his power, and he felt it explode out of him. There was a thump and a grunt, and then footsteps towards the door. When Snape had finally gone, Harry allowed himself to cry for the unfairness of it all.  
  
****************************  
  
Snape had been unhurt by the burst of raw magic that his son had emitted; in fact he had barely noticed it. He was in total shock of the complete change that had come over the once handsome boy. He couldn't believe someone could change so much in a matter of days, and he didn't know what to do. If he told Dumbledore then he would lose Harry's trust; not that he had it anyway, but what would happen to Harry if nobody found out? And why in Merlin's name hadn't anyone noticed? What were his friends playing at?  
  
*******************************  
  
Harry pulled the hangings round his bed and lay back, pinching the skin over his bony wrists absent mindedly. He supposed he had lost weight; but it didn't really seem to matter. Nothing did. He hadn't cared when Oliver had come to yell at him for missing Quidditch; he hadn't noticed when the older boy's eyes had looked sadly at him and then disappeared. He hadn't cared when Dean and Seamus had nagged at him to come to lessons, and when they'd brought him plates of food from the hall and then removed them that evening. His whole life suddenly had become fake; a lie. Everything he had believed in had suddenly disappeared, as though the very foundations of his life had crumbled and fallen into the black abyss otherwise known as 'being Snape's son'.  
  
*******************************  
  
"Miss Granger, where is Potter today?" asked Professor McGonagall resignedly.  
  
"I am afraid I don't know, professor" said Hermione tonelessly. "Seamus and Dean might know."  
  
Slightly puzzled, McGonagall whisked over to the two boys.  
  
"Do you have any idea as to where Mr Potter might be?" she asked icily. Seeing their furtive glances at each other, she snapped "well, spit it out!"  
  
Seamus shifted uneasily. "He won't get out of bed. I don't know why."  
  
McGonagall drew herself up, lips pressed tightly together. "And there would, presumably, be a very good reason why nobody thought to tell me this?"  
  
Both Dean and Seamus squirmed silently.  
  
"Go and fetch him! Now! Tell him to come to my office."  
  
Den disappeared in the blink of an eye, and ran up to the dormitory. "Harry! Harry! McGonagall wants to see you!"  
  
"McGonagall can go screw herself" mumbled Harry from behind the curtains. Dean moved closer, opened the curtains, and almost screamed. Harry looked like a zombie, his hair long and greasy, his eyes sunken deep into the waxy skin of his face.  
  
"Jesus, Harry, what happened to you?"  
  
Harry shrugged listlessly, and Dean suddenly realised his friend was seriously ill.  
  
"You need to see Pomfrey, Harry. You look terrible!"  
  
Harry shrugged again, turning away from his roommate.  
  
"I don't care" he whispered.  
  
"I just don't care any more."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ok, ok, I know it's short, but I'm having such a bad 2 weeks, don't know when I'll get around to updating, hopefully in under a week. 


	8. Duelling again

Dean looked down sadly at his friend, and then turned to Seamus.  
  
"What do we do?"  
  
Seamus shrugged, his face pained. "He can't go to McGonagall like this, can he?"  
  
Dean snorted.  
  
"So, what do we do? Harry, do you want to see Pomfrey?"  
  
"Go away. I don't want to see anyone."  
  
"Harry, mate, you're going to get really ill if you don't get some help. . ."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Look, I'm going to get Madam Pomfrey. Seamus, you stay here with Harry and I'll. . ." Whatever Dean was going to do was lost in his startled yelp. "What are YOU doing here?. . .sir. . ."  
  
Snape sneered.  
  
"Professor McGonagall sent me here to collect Potter." He lied smoothly, and then turned his glare on the two Gryffindors. "What are you doing here?"  
  
There was an uneasy silence and Seamus finally spoke.  
  
"Professor McGonagall sent us to collect Harry."  
  
Merlin, Severus, you should be able to lie better than that. Of course Minerva sent them!  
  
There was another awkward silence until Snape finally snapped "Well, what are you waiting for? Go back to your lessons!"  
  
Seamus and Dean fled. When they had reached the comparative safety of the Transfiguration room Dean turned to his friend, wide eyed.  
  
"What the hell was that about? How did Snape get in? And why was he lying?" Seamus shrugged, looking baffled. Their conversation was quickly stopped by McGonagall coming over.  
  
"Is he waiting?"  
  
"Um, no professor, professor Snape came while we were getting Harry and said you'd sent him. Then he kicked us out!"  
  
McGonagall went white as a sheet, thinking inwardly 'You've made a mistake here, Albus. He's going to kill Harry!' and took off towards the Gryffindor rooms.  
  
*****************************************  
  
Snape was livid.  
  
"What the hell happened to taking care of yourself?" he bellowed, spit flying from his mouth. "Can you not even be entrusted with a simple task, like keeping yourself alive?"  
  
"Can you not even be entrusted with the simple task of keeping your bloody great nose out of places it isn't wanted?" yelled Harry, shocking Snape.  
  
"How dare you talk. . ."  
  
"To me like that, ten points. . ."  
  
"From Gryffindor" finished Snape before he suddenly realised Potter had been completely mocking him. To make matters even worse he heard a muffled snort from the door and saw McGonagall standing there.  
  
"How dare you talk. . ." he said before realising he would be walking into exactly the same trap again. Furiously he flushed.  
  
"Why were you up here, Severus?"  
  
"I was going to see why Mr Potter has not been attending lessons recently."  
  
"And you did not see fit to come and discuss this with me, his Head of House?"  
  
"No" said Snape, sticking his nose in the air. "I did not."  
  
Rolling her eyes, McGonagall turned to Harry.  
  
"Well, Mr Potter, come on. We need to discuss your current behaviour" said McGonagall. Snape was hard put to to prevent himself from spluttering. He composed himself and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Should he perhaps visit Poppy first?"  
  
"Why?" asked McGonagall, and Snape nearly choked. Good lord, was the woman blind? The boy looked. . .absolutely fine. Oh yes, of course, concealing charms.  
  
"Finite incantatem" he murmered. Nothing happened.  
  
"Finite incantatem! Reducto distinguo! Disalterum Personis!" he bellowed, waving his wand about. McGonagall and Harry were looking at him in amazement, McGonagall standing in front of Harry as though to protect him from the rather rabid looking master.  
  
"Severus, I don't think there are any charms on him" she said gently, trying to hold back a smirk. Snape was just about to tell her that there most certainly were when he suddenly caught the pleading look in Potter's eyes. He had no idea why he heeded it; normally he couldn't have cared less. But still. . .  
  
"Very well, however I want to see you tonight in my office, Potter, to sort out all the work you have missed. Wouldn't want to fail your exam now, would you?"  
  
Harry nodded silently, and followed McGonagall. He was already dressed and Snape wondered whether the boy had been expecting these summons.  
  
************************************  
  
"Harry, I must admit I am very disappointed in you. It is simply not acceptable for a student to miss so many lessons for no good reason. You will lose the advantage you have gained in Transfiguration in particular."  
  
Harry nodded and looked contrite. He knew that he had been stupid to miss so many classes, but all this stuff with Snape hadn't exactly made him feel ecstatic. He had prayed for a father and mother since he could remember, and finally his prayers were granted with that bastard? Someone up there must really hate him, he decided wryly. Suddenly, Harry realised that McGonagall was still talking.  
  
". . .so you must catch up the work you have missed from all of your teachers, and I hope you will carry on with the good progress you made at the start of this term. Professor Flitwick is very pleased with you, in fact I am sure all the teachers will be happy to have you back. Except possibly Professor Snape. . ."  
  
Harry forced himself to smile along with his Head of House. She was right; Snape probably disliked him even more than the Dursleys did, which was some feat. Sad, but true. It would have been better if neither of them had known.  
  
"Anyway, Harry, if that's all then you had better go and have some lunch. Of course, if there's anything we can do to make things easier. . ."  
  
"Well, professor, do you think it would be possible for me to drop one of my classes?"  
  
McGonagall regarded Harry sadly.  
  
"No, Harry, I'm afraid we can't allow you to do that. Which class was it, and why?"  
  
"Well, I was thinking of Divination. I have so much work, especially with these extra duelling classes, and . . .well . . .it is a bit upsetting when professor Trelawny predicts my death so often, I am sure it's putting me off my work. . ."  
  
McGonagall snorted. "You are a Slytherin at heart, Mr Potter. I'll have a word with the headmaster to see what can be done; goodness knows she has enough students to terrorise, she won't miss another one. . ."  
  
"Thank you!" said Harry, diving out of the door. He wasn't planning on eating but Dean and Seamus dragged him into the hall and practically forced food down his throat. For one of the first times he could remember, Harry felt like his friends actually cared. When he had been friends with Ron and Hermione had had always been afraid of offending Ron and upsetting Hermione. With Seamus and Dean he felt. . .free. Free to be himself.  
  
But he still had to go and meet his birth father. . .  
  
*******************************  
  
Snape paced agitatedly before the fire, absently talking to Dumbledore's head. He didn't hear footsteps entering the room.  
  
"How is this going to work, Dumbledore? We're never going to get along. It would have been better if neither of us had found out! He hates me and I hate him, that's the way it always has been and the way it always should be."  
  
"Now now, Severus. Everything in our world happens for a reason. If you and Harry were not meant to find out the truth then you wouldn't have. You must just make the best of it. Lemon drop?"  
  
Snape groaned and rolled his eyes then continued as though he hadn't heard the wizard's last words.  
  
"He told me he'd rather live with muggles than me, and if that isn't bad I don't know what is. This will just hang over us and make him even more irritating. If that's possible. Which I highly doubt it is."  
  
"Or it could make you even more of a snarky bastard than you already are to him!"  
  
Snape nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Draco's furious voice behind him.  
  
"Right then, I'll let you two discuss this" said Dumbledore's head, disappearing with a pop.  
  
"How dare you talk to me like that?" exclaimed Snape.  
  
"Because you are his father. You both need a family and you are both too bloody stubborn to admit it. How do you know that you didn't have a chance? I saw you being a bastard to him recently. You're meant to treat your children differently when you know who they are!"  
  
"But. . .I. . .how dare you. . ."  
  
"Shut up! I've seen you both suffer so much these last few days and I'm sick and tired of it. What, were you expecting him to leap into your arms? You have villified him ever since he came here!"  
  
"Yes, well, that's hardly the point. He was equally. . ."  
  
"It is the point, and of course he hated you! You were horrible to him first and besides, he never knew anything about you. You loved his mother, for Merlin's sake! Would it have killed you to talk about her for once?"  
  
Draco knew he had gone too far. Snape flinched as though he had been slapped.  
  
"I see her, every time I look at him. But everything that is her is dwarfed by Potter. It's like seeing her dead again." He whispered in a pained voice, and brushed past Draco who stood rigid and shocked.  
  
"Oh Merlin" he murmered, hearing the door to Snape's bedroom slam shut.  
  
********************************************  
  
Snape didn't know how long he lay on his bed. Draco's words had given him a lot to think about. He had been unfair to Harry. But he had never had any reason to believe he was anything but James Potter through and through. Nothing good ever happened to Severus Snape, and he was not going to believe that was going to change after all these years.  
  
This is all the innocent muggles I tortured  
  
He would never find happiness; he had turned from that path many years ago. Now in his sleep, when he actually got any, he heard pain filled screams.  
  
Those are all the people I betrayed  
  
He would never find warmth, or release. That was why he would stay in the dungeons as far as possible. The physical warmth only made the ice of his soul grip his heart more tightly.  
  
This is life's revenge.  
  
***************************************  
  
Harry went to the dungeons that night, but there was no reply, and not a little relieved he hastened back to the Gryffindor rooms. When he got upstairs he pulled back his curtains and found a bottle on his bed on top of a note marked with a familiar hand. The note contained no preamble which was hardly surprising.  
  
"This is a slightly adulterated version of the Dreamless Sleep Potion. It will not cause an addiction. You may continue using it as long as you wish.  
  
Professor Severus Snape."  
  
Surprised, Harry gulped down the potion and felt waves of sleep wash over him. His last conscious thought was, 'Could it be that Snape isn't so bad?'  
  
He slept well that night, and went to the library the next morning to look up some more hexes he could use on Professor Flitwick that lunchtime. He worked on shielding charms with Dean and Seamus until he could hold up a fairly good shield through several curses, and then looked up some funny hexes. He learnt the stinging curse (Bourdonus) and the waking sleep curse (Dormientes) and then, deciding it would be amusing, a transfiguration that would change the person's perception of their body shape (altero aedificio). If it was possible, he was ready to duel.  
  
He and Flitwick walked to the middle of the room and bowed, holding their wands in the accepted position. The charms professor started the duel with a curse which Harry quickly blocked.  
  
"Stupefy!"  
  
"Rictusempera!"  
  
"Titellandus!" Harry fell to his knees wheezing with the effects of a tickling charm. Flitwick laughed and as the short wizard briefly let down his guard Harry attacked.  
  
"Bourdonus!"  
  
However, Flitwick blocked the curse with amazing peed for such an old wizard and started hurling hexes as Harry. Harry felt himself tiring, and was preparing to give up when suddenly he realised something he could do that even Flitwick could not counter. With renewed enthusiasm he began blocking and firing curses again, this time with a purpose.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Flitwick was getting worried. Learning spells didn't put people at any advantage with duelling. It was something that couldn't really be taught as it relied on the person using tactics. And obviously, whoever you duelled had different methods and so required different tactics. Unfortunately, Harry didn't seem to have grasped this. Flitwick was bored out of his mind, throwing random curses at the boy, not aiming to hurt. The only good thing about Harry's duelling was his shield, which could deflect or absorb reasonably strong curses. But Voldemort only used the unforgiveables. . .and they were unblockable.  
  
However, just when he was about to call off the duel, he saw a flash of determination cross the boy's face. Slightly worried, he put up his shield as Harry threw curses at him. This was better! Harry was searching for weaknesses and charms which Flitwick didn't like. Much better!  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Harry suddenly knew what he was doing. He could feel which curses Flitwick tried harder to deflect than others and began to be able to predict when the wizard would block and when he would move out of the way. Through this process he predicted Flitwick moving left, and was able to direct his spell straight at the wizard before he could block it.  
  
"Altero aedificio!"  
  
At first, Flitwick thought the spell which had hit him hadn't worked, although he had felt the magical surge. Then he tried to move and felt himself waver. This was a new curse! He felt like he was twice the height! Again he teetered around on legs that seemed too long for him, barely noticing Harry disarming him and casting the counter spell.  
  
"Well well well" came a voice from the doorway. "Very impressive, Harry. Congratulations!"  
  
"Thank you, Headmaster" said Harry, smiling.  
  
For the first time in his life, he felt proud. 


	9. Veritaserum

Albus smiled beatifically at Harry.  
  
"That was a very good effort, Harry. I must admit having seen your previous duels I was a little worried, but I do believe you have got the hang of this, wouldn't your agree Professor Flitwick?"  
  
Flitwick nodded and squeaked his agreement.  
  
"That was excellent, Harry. Now all you have to do is learn some more advanced hexes and curses, ones which can incapacitate and befuddle your opponent's mind. Like the one you cast on me, but there are stronger ones which you may need. . .in the future. . ."  
  
"You mean if I even have to duel Voldemort or the Death Eaters?" Flitwick flinched and Dumbledore smiled approvingly.  
  
"You have grown up a lot, Harry, and I'm sorry you have had to so quickly. You are quite right to be forthright. Always go for people's worst fears when you have found them."  
  
"Yes, sir" said Harry. He felt like he couldn't contain his smile any more. "With all due respect, Professor Flitwick, you looked so funny when you thought you had long legs!"  
  
Dumbledore began to chuckle. "Indeed, I believe we should practice that charm more frequently to keep us alert. Maybe I should make Severus believe he is very short and fat tomorrow. It could be quite amusing." Flitwick giggled again, but Harry's face fell at the mention of his father, and Dumbledore noticed.  
  
"Harry. . .you cannot keep running from your worst fears. You will have to confront them soon. . ."  
  
Harry nodded sombrely. He knew the headmaster was right, but he didn't know if he could face the rejection he was bound to get.  
  
*****************************************  
  
Draco felt a bit guilty. Snape still hadn't come out of his room and had missed breakfast. Carrying a few slices of toast with marmalade from the hall, he knocked timidly on the door. There was no response.  
  
"Severus! I know you're in there! You can't just ignore him and me forever, you know, and if you don't come out Dumbledore will come looking for you. I know you're upset and everything but you can't just hide forever, you have to face. . ."  
  
The door opened and Snape glared at him.  
  
"When you are quite finished, Draco, I am not upset, I have already eaten my breakfast and WAS enjoying a book before you decided to try and break my door down."  
  
Draco suddenly became very interested in the floor.  
  
"I am not in the slightest concerned about Mr Potter. Now if that is all I would appreciate being allowed to continue preparing for my lessons. . ." He raised an eyebrow and Draco fled, having a very bad feeling about the way Snape had called his son a Potter.  
  
Contrary to what he had said, Snape was disturbed. He had been adamant that he would only be Harry's father in birth even before Draco had talked to him the night before, and after their discussion he had barely slept thinking about it. But he was still determined that he was incapable of looking after a boy, however hard his life had been. It wouldn't help either of them, and it would be extremely dangerous to admit to having family with Voldemort on the rise. There was no way Snape was letting Harry go back to the muggles, but he decided that the boy could go to an orphanage until he had finished his schooling.  
  
"I can be no father to him" me murmered, staring into the green flames dancing in the fireplace.  
  
**************************************  
  
That morning he was completely distracted. His head throbbed and ached constantly and he just wanted to curl up and go to sleep. He didn't want to see Neville Longbottom in his first lesson of the day. Neville had been moved down a year in potions and Snape had been told very very grimly by Dumbledore in no uncertain terms that there would be serious trouble if he ever mentioned Neville's parents again. As a punishment, Snape now had to contend with Neville twice as often as normal (he was doing 4th and 5th year potions so he would actually pass). It didn't occur to him that on some days Neville had to cope with quadruple potions; he had to contend with quadruple Neville Longbottom.  
  
Neville wasn't too happy about this either.  
  
**************************************  
  
"Come on, quickly, quickly. You will all fail this class if you do not hurry up and get your ingredients out!" snapped Snape, watching the 5th years coming in.  
  
"Now, today you will be making Veritaserum, and those of you who actually do it correctly will be testing it after class. Unless, of course, you wish to spill out your innermost secrets to the whole class." He smirked nastily and the class shivered slightly.  
  
"Well, what are you waiting for? The instructions are on the board. Get on with it!" Over the top of the noise, he said "Oh, and anyone who manages to complete this without any explosions or poisonous gases will be awarded ten points." The classes faces fell. If Snape was offering points, it must be a really hard potion. Harry however remained expressionless and began calmly chopping his Butternut roots into even pieces. As he chopped methodically he thought about the potion. It would be hard, undoubtedly. It would really depend on the consistency of the potion when it was brought to boil. Yes, the boiling would be a crucial stage. If the potion was too thin then it would overheat and explode, if it was too thick then it would not be heated thoroughly and when it was to be stirred again the cold and hot potions mixed together would react and emit nasty gases.  
  
But how to get it the right consistency? He would need to add everything in perfect quantities and then. . .of course! The unicorn hair would need to be crushed so it penetrated the grindylow horn and made it expand which would make the whole texture right.  
  
Proud of himself for figuring it out, Harry started adding ingredients to his cauldron. As he picked up the unicorn hair he started. It had the wrong feel; it was obviously not real. Odd. Then Harry realised what it was, and what it would do. Centaurs hairs were nothing like as easy to obtain as unicorn hair, though they looked pretty much the same. However centaur hair would cause very large explosions and was not a good thing to add to an already volatile potion.  
  
Pansy Parkinson.  
  
When she had found out that Draco wasn't a Death Eater and had no intention of becoming one, she had taken it upon herself to hate the Gryffindors. It was better in some ways as she was nothing like the wizard that Draco was, and therefore nobody was in any danger. However when she did things like this. . .the whole class could have been killed had Harry's potion exploded. With a sigh, he reached around and took one of Dean's genuine unicorn hairs and crushed it.  
  
"Potter, why are you crushing that hair?" Demanded Snape lazily. Deciding to shock his father after the lesson, Harry said "Oh I'm sorry, professor, I wasn't thinking."  
  
"Well concentrate then!" spat Snape and swirled off. In the background he heard Harry hissing at Seamus for another hair. Shame. He thought his son might at least have enough flair for potions to be able to at least follow the instructions on the board. The boys ingredients had been added in the wrong order and the potion was certainly a failure. But his head hurt too much to be bothered. Let them all blow themselves up, what did it matter.  
  
Harry lifted a ladleful of his potion and regarded it as it splashed back into the cauldron. It was the right consistency but there was a slight cloudiness where the liquid should be completely clear. He needed to freeze it again. Ah! That was where everyone was going wrong. They were simply taking the heat away from the potion. Even if it was clear now it would solidify. Harry saw that he had to actually cast a freezing charm on his cauldron.  
  
His wand emitted a few sparks and the cauldron froze, the potion clear and sparkling. Harry grinned happily into the bottom of it.  
  
"What, pray tell, are you grinning so gormlessly at, Mr Potter?" enquired Snape silkily, making Harry jump away from him reflexively. The memory of Vernon had never left him.  
  
"My potion, sir" said Harry as firmly as he could.  
  
"Indeed?" Snape bent over the cauldron and let out a soft oath. Merlin damn the boy, he'd actually brewed Veritaserum! He straightened up, aware that the whole class was watching him with bated breath. What should he do? It was an unbelievable feat, but still. . .he couldn't bring himself to praise the boy who looked like James so much; his delicate features from Lily blunted by the arrogant Gryffindor's.  
  
"Poorly brewed" he lied. "I suppose it might work, but it has been shoddily made." Harry's eyes flashed with anger, but he remained silent.  
  
"Come and see me after dinner and you may test it."  
  
*********************************  
  
The day passed in a blur for both of them then. Harry was again virtually force-fed his dinner by Seamus and Dean and then it was time for him to meet Snape. He tapped nervously on the door and Snape glared at it.  
  
"Come in"  
  
Harry entered and stood in the shadows so that Snape couldn't see the apprehensive expression on his face.  
  
"Drink" said Snape, holding out a vial of the potion Harry had brewed.  
  
Harry drank it down and suddenly felt curiously light headed.  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"I don't know"  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"15"  
  
"What is your favourite sport?"  
  
"Quidditch"  
  
"Do your relatives abuse you?"  
  
"Yes"  
  
"Who is your father?"  
  
"James Potter"  
  
"What is your greatest dream?"  
  
"To have a family. To be loved. To belong."  
  
Unable to stand it any longer, Snape waved Harry away roughly.  
  
"Go!"  
  
Harry went.  
  
*************************************  
  
He curled up on his bed crying bitter tears, refusing to speak to Dean or Seamus or anyone, ignoring the food left out for him. He didn't know or care how long it had been. His father had rejected him.  
  
Oh yeah, he'd been expecting it. Of course he had. But that didn't make it hurt any less when it came. He had seen it in the man's eyes; felt it in his words. There was no hope in there.  
  
With a groan, Harry turned over.  
  
What was the point?  
  
****************************  
  
Snape ran his hands through his hair. Merlin, why did the boy make him feel so guilty? He believed Potter was his father but said he didn't know who he was. Was the boy clutching at straws?  
  
Their words echoed through his mind.  
  
"What is your greatest dream?"  
  
"To have a family. To be loved. To belong."  
  
They sounded like something Snape would have said himself when he was younger. He had never really felt like he had a family. His father had coerced him into joining the Death Eaters at a young age, seeing his son's aptitude for dark magic and potions in particular as a valuable asset. Severus' mother had been killed by Aurors when he was a young boy and he had grown up with a strong hatred of Aurors.  
  
"To have a family. . .to be loved. . .to belong. . ."  
  
"I can't give you that" murmered Snape to himself. "It is not in my power. I do not have the strength."  
  
"To be loved. . .to be loved. . ."  
  
"No! I cannot give you love!"  
  
"To have a family. . .to be loved. . ."  
  
Snape shook his head sharply, trying to dispel the voices.  
  
"I cannot give that to him."  
  
************************************* 


	10. Rejection

Harry had never felt so terrible. The rejection he had seen in Snape's eyes as he coldly asked the questions was eating him from the inside. He felt so alone that he would have accepted Snape as a father if the man had tried. But he hadn't.  
  
It was confusing. When Snape had been healing Harry's injuries he had said Harry could stay with him, but he had never referred to that again. Sometimes Harry had seen the concern on his face, when the man had looked at him. But other times he had simply appeared detached and uncaring.  
  
Eventually, realising awkward questions would rise, Harry managed to lever himself out of bed and go to classes. On his first day back he didn't have potions, thankfully. He didn't know if he could face the disappointment of seeing rejection writ on his father's face again. He was lying on his bed after a fairly boring day when he heard footsteps running upstairs, and a frantic sobbing. He lay still and heard the thump of someone leaping into their bed and muffling their sobs in a pillow. And he knew who's pillow it was.  
  
"Neville?" The sobs subsided for a moment and Harry forced his tired limbs up, walking over to the bed where Neville lay. He sat down beside the other boy and put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"What is it, Neville?"  
  
"S. . .Sn. . .Snape" hiccuped Neville, and was shocked by the look on Harry's face.  
  
"He. . .he said he'd write to my Gran if my marks didn't improve, but I just don't understand, and Gran will be s. . .so disappointed. . ."  
  
Instinctively Harry rubbed circles on Neville's back.  
  
"It'll be ok, Neville. He can't owl your Gran without Dumbledore's permission and you know that Dumbledore would only do what was best. But if you like. . ." He trailed off, embarrassed, and Neville looked up through red eyes curiously. "What?"  
  
"Well. . .I understand potions. . .I would help you, if you wanted. . ."  
  
Neville's face lit up and he hugged Harry fiercely. "Oh Harry, that would be so great, if you don't mind. . ." Harry smiled at the smaller boy.  
  
"No problem, Neville"  
  
********************************************  
  
The next day, which was Saturday, they began. Neville was terrified that they would be making a potion and he would kill Harry, but Harry assured him they would just be doing theory work that day. They lay on the floor in front of the fire in the common room and Harry explained basic potions as well as he could.  
  
"See, it's like a puzzle. It's a bit like Herbology as well. You have to know the plants and their properties really well. For instance. . .this potion, the Vectra potion, you need to know that the mandrake root would be poisonous if it was on it's own. But think about it. . .it's highly acidic, so you need another ingredient to balance it out. What do you think would work?"  
  
Neville considered for a few moments and his face brightened.  
  
"Dragonfire leaf! It's alkaline and isn't as volatile as lots of other Dragonfire plants. So. . .it would have a chance to react with the mandrake. But the mandrake reacts quickly with air, so you'd have to put the Dragonfire leaf in first!"  
  
Harry grinned reassuringly at him.  
  
"Yeah, that's right Nev! That's great. Now, look at these potions and see if you can understand how they all work. I'm not surprised you're excellent at this, you have a great gift for herbology and as you can see herbology and potions are very complementary."  
  
Neville nodded, his normally worried face glowing with happiness. He shifted a little and then turned to Harry fearfully, a bit like Dobby used to.  
  
"Harry. . .now I understand. . .can I try making a potion tonight?"  
  
Harry was amazed and pleased at the same time.  
  
"Yeah, of course. What do you want to do? Or do you want to look through the book and choose one?"  
  
"I'll choose one from the book, I think."  
  
"Ok, that's great Neville. I'll just go and get permission to use a spare room. . ."  
  
*************************************  
  
Snape was enjoying a glass of red wine when Harry tapped nervously on the door.  
  
"Enter" he said in his most foreboding voice. Harry entered, head held high.  
  
"Mr Potter. Is there a reason you are disturbing me at this hour?"  
  
"May I have permission to use one of the potions classrooms to make a potion this evening, sir?" asked Harry. He was so polite that Snape could hardly find any reason to take off points.  
  
"What potion?"  
  
"I don't know, Neville is deciding."  
  
Snape spat out his wine in a very un Snape-like manner and gaped at Harry.  
  
"You MUST be joking, Mr Potter. I will not have Longbottom even in these dungeons unsupervised, let alone brewing a potion."  
  
"He won't be unsupervised, sir, I'll be with him"  
  
Snape snorted and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Should I be comforted by this statement?"  
  
Suddenly he felt himself being lifted out of his chair and slammed against the wall. He reached for the wand but Harry was holding it, his eyes glittering with rage. One of the boy's hands was outstretched, magically pinning Snape to the wall. The other was on his hip.  
  
"You bastard! You're my father, my fucking father, and you won't even acknowledge it! You made me spill my secrets to you under Veritaserum and then dismissed me with nothing. I could have coped with that, but then you cared. . ."  
  
Tears rolled down Harry's face, his magic wavering slightly in his grief.  
  
"You cared, I felt it. And I'm never going to feel it again. . ."  
  
With a strangled sob he fled, wondering whether he would finally get expelled for this.  
  
Snape crumpled to the ground and staggered to the door.  
  
"Potter! Po. . .Harry!" He heard the footsteps pause.  
  
"Please, come back. At least let me explain. . ."  
  
Harry appeared around the corner, his eyes cold and hard.  
  
"I have to go now. If you still have the balls to talk to me and tell me the truth tomorrow then I will come to your office whenever you want. Good afternoon, Professor" and with that he rounded the corner in a swirl of robes, leaving Snape almost speechless after him.  
  
*****************************************  
  
Harry was eating that evening when a school owl swooped over to him and held out its leg. He gave it a bit of toast and read the curt note.  
  
'Mr Potter,  
  
The main potions classroom will be free tonight for your experiment. Any damages will be paid for.  
  
Professor S. Snape.'  
  
With a small smile he handed it to Neville.  
  
"Have you decided which potion you want to do?"  
  
"Yeah" replied Neville softly. "Memorandum."  
  
Harry's breath caught in his throat. The memorandum potion would remind whoever inhaled its fumes of the thing they desired most; giving them a strongly realistic memory of the thing or person in question. In the case of people, the potion would give off an image which would have all the characteristics of the original person. He had no doubt why Neville wanted to brew it; nor as to why he was doing it in potion form as opposed to a charm.  
  
This would be the best revenge Neville could get on Snape, and the closest he would ever get to his parents.  
  
**************************************  
  
Harry stood, his face obscured in the shadows of the dimly lit potions room as he watched Neville complete the potion. As with all magic, the greater the magic in your veins the stronger and more accurate the potion would be. But a huge part of completing the magic was simple understanding which even a muggle could do. Neville's potion was unrecognisable from the amazing concoctions he normally managed and Harry couldn't remember ever feeling so proud. He wondered briefly what it was he was proud of, but gave up and enjoyed the warm feeling which he had not felt for so long.  
  
Seeing that Neville was about to add the last ingredient, Harry turned away tactfully to allow Neville his own personal view of his parents before their minds had become tangled webs of pain. Just then a voice disturbed him.  
  
"Potter."  
  
It was Pansy Parkinson, her wand drawn and with what she probably thought was a predatory glare on her face. She actually looked like a constipated chipmunk. The mental image made Harry laugh aloud, and her eyebrow twitched weirdly in what was obviously a dark glint in her own eyes. Well, she did look deranged. . .  
  
"You ready to die, Potter?"  
  
Harry couldn't contain himself and burst into peals of laughter. The cliches that Pansy used were worse than Draco's!  
  
"Yeah, give it your best Parkinson" he said calmly, deflecting the biting hex she sent at him straight back to herself. Unfortunately she didn't seem to know the counter-curse, and fell to her knees whimpering. Roughly Harry snatched the wand out of her hand and jerked her chin up with his hand.  
  
"You want to join Voldemort, Parkinson? You want to eat death? It's your choice. But I warn you, a biting curse will make you shriek with laughter when he has finished with you. . .providing you have been good. . ."  
  
He removed the biting hex and with a squeak she fled, eyes full of tears. His happy mood dispelled, Harry put a hand on Neville's shoulder.  
  
"C'mon Neville, time to go back to the common Room or Snape will catch us and take points."  
  
"Or perhaps professor Snape is already here" drawled a voice from behind Harry. "Mr Potter, a word in my office if you please. Longbottom, back up to your common room."  
  
Harry followed the man apprehensively into his office and took a seat at Snape's ungracious nod.  
  
"I heard you talking with Miss Parkinson. Tell me, what right do you have to go telling her about Lord Voldemort?"  
  
"None. None whatsoever."  
  
"So why did you do it?" Snape's voice was calm, but in the shadows his face was surprised.  
  
"Someone once told me there is only power and those too weak to use it" said Harry, looking into the fire. "I agree with them. Parkinson will never amount to anything. She has little magical ability and no common sense. I may dislike her, but to see her go to her death through ignorance? I was using my power. Few people at this school have met Voldemort. I believe you, I and Dumbledore are the only ones, although many knew Tom Riddle. Voldemort has no right to kill innocent muggles and magical folk, but he has the power. I have no right to tell Parkinson the truth, but I have the power. I would rather use the power I can rather than allow it to go to waste."  
  
Snape was silent for a moment, before he finally spoke, his eyes never meeting Harry's.  
  
"You think I have been unfair; nasty, perhaps." It was not a question. Harry nodded.  
  
"I am not a good person. The relationship I had with your mother was the best thing that ever happened to me. When she went with Potter I became bitter and twisted. You know I turned away from the Death Eaters but that will not repent what I have done in the past. Neither of us should have found out about the link we share. I don't care if you want me as a father or not. I have no son as far as I am concerned."  
  
His voice and face had remained steady although his stomach twisted at the thought of how the boy would react. He was actually quite surprised when Harry nodded calmly and rose gracefully from the chair.  
  
"Is that all. . .professor?"  
  
"Yes, Potter. Now get out of my sight."  
  
Harry nodded civilly and walked out of the door, the light from the candles reflecting off his face. It was no less than he had expected.  
  
**********************************  
  
He walked up to Dumbledore's room feeling oddly detached. He had felt the bond between Snape and himself from the time he had seen Snape crying on Dumbledore's shoulder growing stronger, and had harboured the faint hope that they might put their differences between them. But obviously not. He knew what he had to do now.  
  
"Chocolate Frog" he said, surprised at how flat his voice was as the gargoyle slid to the side with a sneer in his direction. Like Snape. . .  
  
He ascended the staircase and knocked on Dumbledore's door softly. The old wizard opened it and smiled at Harry.  
  
"Hello Harry, what can I do for you?"  
  
Deciding to get straight to the point, Harry said "I have been talking with Professor Snape and we have decided to ignore what we once found out. I would therefore like to ask you to reapply the concealing charms I carried."  
  
He was aware of how formal he sounded but thought, well if now isn't a good time to be formal then when is?  
  
"I'm sorry that it didn't work out, Harry, and I am obliged to tell you that I simply cannot recast the charms because we do not know how your mother did them. There were many complex layers of spells which we could not possibly guess at. I think the only alternative to staying as you are is to transfigure yourself into a past version of yourself, with a non- permanent transfiguration. I am sure that is within your capabilities."  
  
Harry nodded, and turned to leave. As he did so he heard Dumbledore's voice behind him, a plaintive note in the wise tones.  
  
"You are sure there is no hope of reconciliation?"  
  
"Quite" said Harry softly, looking the Headmaster in the eye before leaving the room. 


	11. We Love Neville

Harry transfigured his face subtly back to the features it had owned previously, without the slight hooking of the nose and the sharpness of the cheekbones which had been accentuated by his starvation.  
  
However with Neville's friendship he had come out of his depression a little and was beginning to live again as he had before the summer holidays. He and Neville had become close friends, having more in common than they ever would have realised. Neville had a great sense of humour and constantly had Harry laughing.  
  
Then something happened which changed everything. Harry was on his way to Herbology when he realised he'd left his gloves in the dormitory. He quickly went up the long winding corridors and gasped the password at the Fat Lady who swung open excruciatingly slowly. As soon as he could fit through he burst up the stairs and flung open the door to the dormitory. Afterwards he didn't know if Neville hadn't heard him or whether he had not cared about the footsteps. Harry had assumed that Neville would already be in Herbology but he didn't seem to be. In fact, he seemed to be standing in the middle of the dormitory slicing the pale skin of his forearm with a beautifully ornate knife. With his sleeve pushed up Harry could see cuts in varying degrees of healing, just before Neville snatched his sleeve down, looking worried and angry at the same time.  
  
Silently Harry walked over to Neville who had frozen and pried the knife out of his hand, flinching slightly at the warm sticky blood which smeared his palm.  
  
"Why?" Neville shrugged and, not knowing why, Harry smashed the knife with a well placed spell. Neville gasped, eyes flashing.  
  
"My nan got me that!"  
  
"Yeah, and I bet she wouldn't have wanted you to use it for that!"  
  
Neville squirmed.  
  
"I'll stop. Just. . .forget it" he said. Harry nodded silently and the two boys headed down to herbology.  
  
*********************************************  
  
But Harry didn't forget it. He tried to subtly raise the subject a few times over the next few days even though Neville would not take the hints. After that he didn't say anything, but his worry continued.  
  
Over those few days, life continued as normal - or as normal as Harry Potter's life could ever be. He continued to be upset deep down by Snape's rejection of him, he continued his studies in Transfiguration and the Duelling with Flitwick. He still couldn't achieve a flawless shield, and it could be shattered with relative ease, but it might protect him from one strong curse and save his life. Then Harry had a very nasty surprise. He entered the charms classroom to partake in his now daily work-out, to find that Flitwick was not there. Then Dumbledore stepped out of the shadows, smiling as Harry's wand instinctively flew into his hand.  
  
"I'm glad to see your reflexes are up to scratch, Harry. Now, Professor Flitwick will not be teaching you any longer. Obviously he is a light wizard and always has been. However, when you duel with Dark Wizards many things may be different. Therefore we have managed to find a new duelling partner for you!"  
  
Harry's uneasy feeling grew with Dumbledore's grin. At a wave of his hand a cloaked and masked person stepped out of the shadows and Dumbledore disappeared. All of a sudden it came flooding back to Harry; the death eaters laughing, Cedric's lifeless body on the ground, eyes staring blankly up at the night sky. His breath came in short sharp bursts and he dropped to his knees shaking, hands over his eyes. He felt the Death Eater moving closer, and heard the voices in his head, of his parents, of Cedric, of Snape, of Vernon. He trembled uncontrollably, willing it to all go away, but it didn't. Still the footsteps advanced and he threw himself across the floor frantically trying to escape. The footsteps stopped and there was an audible sigh.  
  
"Merlin, Potter, you are useless. 10 points from Gryffindor for excessive cowardice."  
  
Harry flinched at the icy tones of Snape.  
  
"Up"  
  
He rose numbly and held out his wand with trembling hands wondering if Snape had any idea how scared he was. Probably he did; the man missed very little. Unconsciously Harry put up his shields, and waited. That was a big mistake.  
  
"Passa!"  
  
Knives dug into Harry's body, he felt them puncture his skin and organs, felt the searing pain. . .and then he was writhing on the floor, memories of Vernon which not even Snape knew about flooding into his mind, the knives piercing his very brain. . .and then nothing. And he almost missed the feeling, because it made him feel like he was being punished for getting Cedric and his parents killed. . .  
  
And then Snape spoke, and his words cut through Harry like glass.  
  
"What a disgrace to your parent's memories you are, Potter. Cowering at the slightest sign of pain. I might have expected greater bravery from a Gryffindor at least. How pathetic."  
  
His face wasn't visible behind the mask, but Harry could sense the sneer.  
  
"Just go to your next lesson, and pray."  
  
"Why, sir?"  
  
"Why? What. You must pray that someone as arrogant as you tries to defeat Voldemort, because you have no chance. Now go!"  
  
Harry fled, his heart breaking into a thousand little shards.  
  
*******************************************  
  
3 days later. . .  
  
He was acutely aware of the lack of Neville beside him. He hadn't seen his new best friend since breakfast. He had looked pale, and said he was going to Madam Pomfrey, refusing to let Harry accompany him. Without Neville, Harry felt very conspicuous and very alone. At the end of Transfiguration McGonagall pulled him back.  
  
"Where is Neville, Harry?"  
  
"He was feeling ill - he went to the hospital wing."  
  
McGonagall's face creased slightly.  
  
"That's unusual. . .oh, of course. . .today is the day his parents. . .I'll just visit him and see if he's alright."  
  
"Can I come?" asked Harry  
  
"No, you may visit during the lunch break." Reluctantly Harry nodded and left for Potions.  
  
"Potter! Is my lesson so fearfully boring that you must fall asleep?"  
  
"No, sorry sir."  
  
"20 points from Gryffindor. Stay awake next time I ask you a question."  
  
Harry flushed slightly as he had answered the question perfectly well, but fell silent. Snape was smirking at harry and he suddenly had a very bad feeling the professor was going to poison him or do something equally nasty.  
  
However before he could, there was a knock at the door. It was McGonagall, looking shocked. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.  
  
"Harry. . .you must come now. . .oh, it's so terrible. . ."  
  
Startled, Harry looked at Snape, who was looking at amazement at the normally collected Transfiguration witch. The Potions master nodded sharply and Harry stood up, his stool scraping horribly in the suffocating silence. As he walked towards the door and saw the pitying look in McGonagall's eyes he realised what it was, and his breath hitched.  
  
Neville.  
  
He took a deep breath, trying to stop his legs from buckling. Why? Why had he left him? Why had he never made Neville talk; why had he never told anyone else? McGonagall swept ahead, pausing every so often to shoot him sympathetic looks, and too soon they were at the Hospital Wing.  
  
Harry paused at the door, hands shaking. He suddenly realised he was too weak; too pathetic to do this. He was terrified. But these thoughts came too late as his legs carried him over the threshold. Neville was behind a curtain, eyes gently closed and wrists bandaged all the way up to his elbows. The boy looked happier than Harry could ever remember him being, and for that he felt a fresh pang of guilt. Could he have saved him if he had been a better friend?  
  
McGonagall laid a hand on Harry's arm.  
  
"He'll be ok, physically. Thank Merlin we reached him in time. His arms were already scarred. Did. . .did you know?"  
  
Silently, guilt flooding him and suffusing his face red, Harry nodded staring at the floor. As he had expected, McGonagall exploded.  
  
"You knew? You knew and you never told anyone? He could have died! How would you have felt with his death on your hands?"  
  
Harry felt sick with anger and shame. It was his fault. . .all his fault.  
  
Just then Madam Pomfrey came in.  
  
"Minerva, Neville's Gran just flew in. Will you go and meet her?"  
  
McGonagall nodded, and left with a final evil glare at Harry, who sat next to Neville. To his surprise, Neville woke up.  
  
"Nev! How are you feeling?"  
  
Neville was silent for a long moment. The moment grew, and in that silence Harry realised that Neville would be leaving.  
  
"Will you be glad to go?"  
  
Neville nodded.  
  
"I'll miss you, Harry. . .it's just that I never really fitted in here - I don't have the magical ability. I'll make a better job at a new life. I'm sorry. . ."  
  
Harry shook his head, aware that his eyes were growing misty.  
  
"Can I see. . .your arms?"  
  
Neville peeled back the bandages and Harry felt a jolt of. . .something. . .push in his stomach. There were three deep gashes on each wrist, and countless long scars littering the pale arms. It looked disgusting but fascinating, in a twisted sort of way. He pulled his eyes away with an effort, hearing footsteps arrive.  
  
"Owl me, ok Nev? Don't lose touch. . ."  
  
Neville nodded, eyes shining with both tears and anticipation, and pulled Harry into a hug.  
  
"Thanks for being my friend, Harry. I'll miss you."  
  
Harry squeezed Neville's shoulder and, eyes full of tears, left the Infirmary.  
  
********************************  
  
He didn't go back to potions, but wandered around the school until his feet ached. He briefly considered going back to the Gryffindor common room but changed his mind. Some nasty sixth sense told him that the Gryffindors would have heard about Neville's attempt and would probably blame him like McGonagall had.  
  
Well, it was his fault anyway. He should have done something. Neville could be dead by now. . .  
  
He didn't know where he was. Somehow he had got lost in the dungeons and didn't know which rooms or corridors lead where. But instead of panic he felt relief. Because if he didn't know where he was, then nobody could find him.  
  
"Potter."  
  
Bugger. Ok, maybe someone could find him.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
Draco's voice wasn't wholly unkind, slightly confused maybe. The boy had become nicer this year. He crouched down next to Harry. Harry didn't even realise that he had sat down.  
  
"I heard about Longbottom. I'm sorry."  
  
Harry shrugged listlessly. He felt like all the energy had been drained out of his body, and every movement was a huge effort. It was his fault, all his fault, all my fault. . .  
  
"Harry? Are you ok?"  
  
Harry forced a plastic smile onto his face and nodded.  
  
"I'm fine. Better be going back to my dormitories though. . .before Snape catches me and. . ."  
  
"Twenty points from Gryffindor?"  
  
Harry gulped at the sound of the voice behind him. Just what he so didn't need.  
  
"Sorry professor, I was just. . .going back to my common room."  
  
Snape sneered as Harry fled, and then stepped back a pace as Draco glowered at him.  
  
"You ignored him, didn't you? Your own son - your own bloody family and you just pretend it isn't real? How can you do that?"  
  
Snape pressed his face very close to Draco's and had the satisfaction of seeing the boy flinch back.  
  
"He is no relative of mine. He is a Potter, and if I ever hear again from you that there is any relation between us then you will be very sorry."  
  
Fury etched on his pale and pointed features, Draco turned away, but not before hissing at his teacher.  
  
"You bastard"  
  
Snape grabbed Draco roughly by the shoulders.  
  
"Don't you dare talk to me in that way. My personal life is none of your business."  
  
Draco shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and anger and turned away, but this time Snape didn't try to stop him.  
  
  
  
There! It's finished! The story will now start to get happier. . .in some respects. . . 


	12. Bonding

Snape was in a completely foul mood. He stormed through the castle, having no idea as to where he was going until he found himself in Dumbledore's office. Oddly enough, he couldn't even remember giving the password to the gargoyle. With a benign smile and a twinkle Dumbledore invited him in.  
  
"You look slightly distressed, Severus. Anything you would care to talk about?"  
  
"Just Malfoy being his usual annoying self, headmaster" said Snape sullenly, glaring at the proffered lemon drop.  
  
"That's odd, I thought you and Draco were quite close. What did he say?"  
  
"He was meddling in matters that don't involve him."  
  
Dumbledore sighed deeply and leaned across the table, wondering whether Snape would actually hex him for this.  
  
"You know, Severus, he does actually have a point. I am sure you are tired of hearing people say it, but you do really need a family, like Harry does."  
  
Snape ground his teeth together, fingers twitching on his wand.  
  
"I mean, I can imagine you taking him to Hogsmeade. . .playing Quidditch together. . .sharing memories of the past. . .doing some father son bonding. . ."  
  
The headmaster's voice trailed off as he was swiftly transfigured into a frog by an exceptionally irate Snape.  
  
"Albus, I have the greatest respect for you as a wizard, but you are a FOOL! Potter and I could never have a relationship, because I hate him and he hates me!"  
  
Snape paused, waiting for the usual comforting answer, but all he got was a steely glare.  
  
"Oh shit!" he muttered. He got up and walked halfway out of the door before transfiguring Dumbledore back, and then running.  
  
When he got to the dungeons he nearly jumped out of his skin. In the classroom where he was supposed to be duelling with harry was standing a figure in black robes and a white mask. He froze, and was instantly hit by a tickling charm. He threw it off, furious at the boy for catching him off guard, and cast a stabbing curse. The boy's breath became laboured and he fought to pull off the curse. Sneering, Snape made a stupid mistake and turned away, not realising that Harry was feigning the pain as he had blocked the curse before it had even hit him.  
  
"Occulis Obscuris!" yelled Harry, and Snape's eyes clouded over. In panic, he cast the only charm he could think of which required no aim.  
  
"Umbra Previoso!"  
  
He was shocked by the size of the ghost that came out of Harry's body. It split into four parts, which instantly surrounded him. One was Diggory, pointing accusingly at Harry and mouthing words which Snape couldn't discern, although they were obviously affecting Harry deeply as the boy shook and tried frantically to hold his wand steady. His parents formed another part of the ghost, merely staring at him in a most unnerving way. Then a fat man who Snape didn't recognise, but assumed was Harry's uncle from the way he was waving his fists in the air at a now cowering Harry. And finally, Neville Longbottom, holding out bloody arms, and whispering to Harry. At this Harry crumpled visibly, sinking to the ground as though under the weight of a thousand worlds.  
  
"P. . .passa" he gasped out, and the sudden pain through Snape's body broke his concentration. The ghosts merged together and flooded back into Harry's body, and the boy sagged against the wall, body shaking with sobs. Snape uncast the spell and hesitantly walked forward. Harry ignored him, hugging his knees to his chest and rocking backwards and forwards.  
  
"What happened to Longbottom?" asked Snape curiously.  
  
"He cut his wrists" muttered Harry, his voice thick with grief. Snape sucked in his breath sharply. Who would have thought it. . .Longbottom. . .he moved closer to Harry but the boy flinched away.  
  
"Professor, please, stop fucking with me like this. Just decide if you can be a father or not, please, please just stop messing around with my head. . ."  
  
Guilt suffused Snape's heart and he said softly,  
  
"Can we just be civil?"  
  
There was a long pause, while Harry tried not to sob aloud. Suddenly realising that Snape was waiting for an answer he nodded, and felt the warm folds of Snape's black cloak enclose his shivering body. The elegant fingers ran through Harry's hair, and a lifetime's worth of injustices poured out through Harry as he sobbed frantically into Snape's shoulder, barely aware of the soothing words that came to his ears.  
  
Snape was hardly aware he was crying himself, as he rubbed Harry's back. Eventually he realised he had stopped sobbing, and pulled the boy upright. Reluctantly Harry let go of Snape's robes and tried to get up, but slumped down again. Snape pulled him close again, aware of the dungeon chill seeping into their bones.  
  
"You're too thin" he murmered into Harry's ear. Harry shrugged his spindly shoulders and didn't move, and Snape realised with a shock that Harry had probably never been hugged before. Unless those bear-hugs from Hagrid or Molly Weasley counted. Ugh.  
  
He rubbed Harry's back again, wincing at the feel of the ribs between his fingers, and then lifted him to his feet.  
  
"Harry, you need to go back to your tower now, ok?"  
  
I can't get too close to him. It's dangerous.  
  
Disappointment etched onto his features, Harry nodded silently, face turned to the floor.  
  
Can't put him in even more danger. It's not fair.  
  
He squeezed the bony shoulder and left his hand there as he walked Harry to the door, trying to convey some comfort.  
  
Harry looked back once, some unidentifiable expression in his eyes, and then left.  
  
*********************************  
  
Draco was sitting glaring at the fire when Snape came in. He sullenly refused to look up obviously, though Snape caught sight of him peering through his pale lashes. The facade dissolved as Draco quickly got up, and moved towards Snape, putting a hand on the older wizard's shoulder.  
  
"What happened? You've been crying!"  
  
Snape shrugged.  
  
"I saw things that I had not expected" he relied cryptically, and headed towards his bedroom, ignoring Draco's plaintive cries of, "Speak in English, Sev!"  
  
*******************************  
  
The next morning Harry had Charms first. Flitwick announced they would be doing pair work, just simple sparring. Harry looked around for a partner but everyone seemed to be busy in twos. Everyone. . .except Draco.  
  
"May I?" asked Harry politely, gesturing to Draco. The Slytherin nodded civilly and bowed, turning his eyes to the floor. Harry nearly dropped his wand in shock; to lower your eyes showed great respect and trust in your partner, because obviously they could hex you while you weren't looking. Harry returned the favour, and was pleased to see the faint surprise in Draco's eyes too.  
  
They hadn't spoken that term which was unusual; generally they would be verbally and/or physically attacking each other by this stage of the term. Harry had heard rumours about Draco turning away from the Death Eaters and had believed them; partly because Hermione did, and partly because he doubted that Draco could act well enough to feign the apologetic and remorseful expression he had been wearing all term.  
  
They both held their wands steady and Flitwick started them off with a bang from his wand.  
  
"Rictusempera!" exclaimed Harry, and Draco grimaced, remembering what had passed in the second year duelling club. Then the blond hesitated. He didn't actually know any light curses, he had only learnt the Unforgivables and various other pain bringing hexes. Harry swiftly disarmed him, stepped forward and shook his hand, the look in his soft green eyes telling Draco he understood everything, and he would always be there. . .  
  
And then it was gone, and Draco's wand was pressed back in his hand, and there was an odd sort of emptiness in him. He looked at Harry and saw the surprise in the boy's eyes. Slowly, he reached out a pale hand, not even recognising the presence of the rest of the class, and grasped Harry's. A shock jolted through both of them, sending Harry lurching backwards. He hit the table with a gasp and slid tot he floor, shaking. Draco and Flitwick were at his side in a moment, having been the only ones to see what had happened. Harry stood up, unnaturally pale, and shakily walked to the door, muttering to Flitwick,  
  
"It was a vision. I think I should go to the Headmaster. Can Draco come with me?"  
  
Flitwick nodded, looking anxious, and the two boys exited swiftly. When they got a little away from the classroom, Harry turned to Draco, his eyes flashing.  
  
"What did you do to me?"  
  
"I didn't do anything! I just. . .I don't know. . ."  
  
"Did you not feel it?"  
  
Draco nodded mutely. "I felt it. . .just not so strongly. But what WAS it?"  
  
"I don't know" said Harry softly. "But I don't want to tell Dumbledore. I don't think it's important." -And I'm not convinced I even want to know what it is- he thought inwardly. Knowing him, it probably wasn't good.  
  
****************************************  
  
He and Draco parted ways abruptly, and Harry went back to the Common Room where he found Hedwig waiting for him with a letter. He eagerly opened it, and allowed a rare smile to light up his face as he read it through. It was from Neville.  
  
'Dear Harry,  
  
How's it going? I miss you all, give my best to everyone in Gryffindor and Hagrid. Hope you and Ron and Hermione are all talking again. I'm having a great time at home. McGonagall had a long chat with my Gran and managed to get through to her that I'm just not magical enough to succeed at Hogwarts. I joined a muggle school called Stonewall High. Most of the kids there are nice, much better than a place where all the horrible people with overbearing parents go. . .Smeltings, I think. You should see their uniform, they look so stupid. There's one boy who looks so much like a pig it's not true! I see him every morning and crack up laughing at him.  
  
I have become really good at Muggle Science (I really should stop thinking about Muggles!) I think that's due to all the help you gave me in potions. How's Snape? He seemed a bit preoccupied just before I left, but I'm sure he's back to his usual nasty self now!  
  
Has anything interesting happened recently? How did the match against Ravenclaw go? Has Peeves done anything interesting recently?  
  
I don't have time to write anything else now, because I'm in so much shit with all my homework, there's so much of it and no Hermione or Harry to help me! Anyway, owl me back,  
  
All the best,  
  
Neville.'  
  
Harry read the letter through again with a smile, and quickly grabbed a quill and piece of parchment from the desk to begin drafting his reply 


	13. Duelling Again Sue me

"Hey Neville,  
  
Thanks for the letter! I really appreciate it. Hope you're still ok. Nope, Hermione and Ron still not talking to me. But I got to know Dean and Seamus really well which is nice - I can't believe I didn't get to know any of you guys in the whole time we were at Hogwarts! I'm so glad you're enjoying muggle sciences. You know, the boy who you described is my cousin. I can't stand him! I pity you, going to school within a 10 mile radius of him. I think I'd rather face Voldemort!  
  
Yeah, you're right about Snape too. He's back to his normal nasty self. I think he's in shock at your leaving - he's got nobody to pick on now! I don't know when, but at some point I think I got over him mocking my father and I can just ignore him without trying to kill the greasy bastard now. Professor Sprout was really sad to see you go. You were easily the best Herbologist in the school; she told me you could have studied it at Wizarding University. What is wizarding university? I've never heard of it before and I don't really have Hermione to ask.  
  
Umm, what news from Hogwarts? Well, Ron and Hermione are finally publicly dating - like the rest of us couldn't tell that was going to happen! Oh, it was so funny in potions. . .they were making gooey eyes at each other in potions and Snape really ripped them to shreds. . .Ron went so red I thought he was going to spontaneously combust.  
  
Oh yeah, would you believe, Malfoy and I have become friends? Don't worry, I'm not plotting to become the next Dark Lord. . .but none of the Slytherins are talking to him, and I was sitting alone in potions and Snape made us work together and we actually didn't end up fighting. But something really odd happened today. Draco and I were in charms, duelling, and I beat him. I don't really know what it was. . .I was just looking at him and our eyes locked, then I grabbed his hand - don't know why - and there was this shock - and we both fell backwards. Do you have any idea what that could be?  
  
How are you doing in maths? It must be hard to explain, not knowing basic stuff about maths and languages. What does everyone think? Have you made any new friends?  
  
Kick Dudley (my cousin) for me - and then run, fast!  
  
Best Wishes,  
  
Harry"  
  
Hedwig stuck out a bony leg and Harry sealed the letter, putting a charm on it so that only Neville could open it. He stroked her wings gently with the tip of one finger and then sent her off. He was still thinking about what had happened with Draco. It must be some sort of wizarding bond - but who could he ask about it? His father? He laughed ironically to himself, and at the same time his stomach grumbled loudly.  
  
"Bloody hell, what was that?" yelled a voice. Harry flushed; he hadn't heard Dean come in.  
  
"Harry, is that you? Where did you disappear to?"  
  
"Oh. . .I had a headache. . .I went to Madam Pomfrey."  
  
"Oh, right. Have you eaten?"  
  
"No. I'm not really that hungry though. . ."  
  
But despite his protestations, Dean dragged him to the Hall and virtually forced the food down his throat. Occasionally Harry glanced over to Snape, but every time he did the professor looked away quickly. Harry was completely confused. Hadn't the man been nice to him earlier?  
  
A wave of hot anger flowed over him and he stood up quickly, making his excuses. At a meaningful look from Dumbledore Snape rose and headed out of the back door. He pulled open a portrait to reveal a hidden passage and intercepted his son halfway to the Gryffindor Common Room.  
  
"You left sharply" he said uncertainly, not really knowing how to handle this situation. Harry didn't make it any easier.  
  
"What's it to you?"  
  
Snape's volatile temper stirred.  
  
" I would remind you not to talk to a teacher in that tone of voice, Potter."  
  
Harry was silent for a moment, looking at Snape as thought trying to muster up his courage.  
  
" Couldn't you call me Harry when we're alone?"  
  
Snape sighed and shook his head, speaking quite gently.  
  
"Mr Potter, I will be there for you, as a teacher, but we have had this conversation before. I cannot be your father, and it is only appropriate that I call you by your 'normal' name."  
  
Harry nodded, his heart sinking.  
  
"Good day, professor" he said flatly, and walked off. Snape put his head in his hands and groaned.  
  
"Why me?"  
  
*******************************************  
  
"Do you want him, Severus?" asked Dumbledore, his eyes unusually piercing.  
  
"It's impossible, Albus. With Voldemort; everything he's grown up with has been based around James Potter. . ."  
  
"That wasn't what I asked. I asked you whether you wanted Harry." At Snape's confused silence he continued.  
  
"Voldemort is rising, as is Harry. Their power is increasing dramatically, perhaps with Harry's knowledge that you are his father - after all, you were more powerful than James in your youth. Voldemort will have sensed this power; there will be a battle soon. He is gathering all evil to him; the dementors, the werewolves, so Lupin tells me, and all sorts of foul creatures. But they are under his command alone; when he dies they will fade also. Harry needs to be strong. We need him to defeat Voldemort."  
  
"But why? Why Harry? There are so many strong wizards and witches; why must you place this buden on Harry?"  
  
"Because he is the only one who Voldemort fears. He is the only person I know of who has escaped Voldemort and his followers unscathed countless times. It seems like he has a charm on his life; he may indeed. That is why Voldemort fears him, and that may be the undoing of Voldemort."  
  
"It could also destroy Harry."  
  
"It could. It could destroy anyone. He has no choice, though. Voldemort HAS to prove to his followers he is undefeatable. To do that he must kill Harry. Nobody else is a threat to him."  
  
Snape bowed his head.  
  
"I want him."  
  
**************************************  
  
Harry sat in charms idly flicking his wand between the rows of desks. The occasional firework would fizzle miserably from the end of the wooden stick, but Harry's heart wasn't in it. Draco wouldn't go anywhere near him, scared of what the electric shock had been. Harry was so deep in his thoughts he didn't even notice Flitwick approach behind him.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
He nearly leapt out of his skin, pointing his wand to Flitwick's throat in the blink of an eye. He forced himself to relax and drew the wand away with a shaking hand. The class was silent. With a forced smile, Flitwick backed off a little, with an expression on his face saying Harry was in deep trouble.  
  
"Harry, as I was saying, shall we give the class a little duelling demonstration?"  
  
Harry nodded. He realised that he had shaken the old wizard and angered him. So now wasn't the best time to duel. . .  
  
"Now, we bow" said Flitwick, unaware that he was repeating Voldemort's words. They bowed to each other, the class silent. Flitwick and Harry levelled their wands at each other, and Harry was suddenly afraid of the small wizard. He seemed to have grown and there was fire blazing in his eyes. Harry realised that his reflexes had humiliated the former duelling champion, making him look slow.  
  
The first curse that Flitwick threw almost took him by surprise and he had to jump out of the way to avoid it. As he felt it's magical signature he stiffened. Flitwick was obviously using hard curses. That one would have set him on fire had he not moved. Anger welled up inside him; in demonstration duelling it was important for the duellers to know how hard they would be hexed.  
  
Eyes cold, he put up a shield which shimmered around him. He stood firm as a curse bounced off it, taking pleasure in the angry look on Flitwick's face. Then he followed up with some darker hexes. Flitwick dodged one with startling agility and blocked the other one, forcing Harry to duck so it didn't strike him. People were beginning to murmur amongst themselves at the back of the room, but Harry paid no attention. No attention, that is, until he felt two curses heading for him simultaneously, one from the front and one from the back. He ducked down and put up his shield again, spinning around. There, standing behind him, was Snape.  
  
Furious at the man's entrance, Harry threw the hardest disarming curse he could muster at Snape. The man flew back, crashing into the wall, and slumped motionless on the ground. . . 


	14. The True Story

Harry's mouth dropped open and he ran to his father's side.  
  
"Fa - Professor - are you alright?"  
  
There was no response. Snape was unconscious, blood trickling down the side of his face. His black hair obscured his cheek but Harry could see that the eyes were gently shut. A shiver ran down his spine. What if he had seriously hurt the man?  
  
Flitwick crouched next to Snape and brushed the man's hair out of the way, feeling for his pulse. Thankfully Snape was breathing fine - he just seemed to be knocked out.  
  
"Someone go and get Madam Pomfrey" said Harry tersely, aware of the whispers and gasps coming from the student. Flitwick didn't look up. He was pale.  
  
"Class dismissed. Go!"  
  
He turned to Harry and put a hand on the shaking boy's arm.  
  
"It's not your fault, Harry. You reacted well. He should have blocked it. It's partly my fault for making you angry; but it's proved that you are a strong enough dueller to hold your own against anyone you need to. I'm sure professor Snape will be fine."  
  
Harry nodded numbly, some feeling coming back into his legs. Madam Pomfrey arrived, tutting.  
  
"What happened this time?"  
  
Both Harry and Flitwick were silent, and the medi-witch rolled her eyes before beginning to check Snape.  
  
"Yes, yes, he'll be fine. Could one of you escort him to the Dungeons? I know from experience there's no way he'll stay in the Hospital Wing. But I'll get Dumbledore to cancel his classes for the day; he'll have a terrible headache when he wakes up."  
  
Flitwick shook his head.  
  
"I already have a class waiting for me, Poppy, I'm afraid Harry will have to take him."  
  
Harry swallowed. This would be interesting. . .  
  
"Can I put a mobilicorpus on him? It'll be easier to get him to the Dungeons and then he won't be able to break anything in his temper when he gets in his rooms. . ."  
  
Pomfrey smiled and nodded.  
  
"The password's Salazar" she said, as Harry levitated the still unconscious potions master.  
  
It took about 5 minutes to get down to the dungeons. Harry opened Snape's door and levitated the man over the bed, letting him down gently. He turned to leave, and then changed his mind. If nothing else, Snape deserved an apology. Taking a seat by the bed he looked at his father. The customary scowl was gone from his features, and suddenly Harry understood what his mother had seen in him. The face was strong and handsome without it's usual sneer.  
  
He didn't know how long he had sat for until Snape started moving slightly. Harry swiftly went to the bathroom and soaked a towel in water. Snape looked like he was waking up as Harry re-entered the bedroom and placed the cold towel over Snape's head. On impulse he gently cleaned the cut on the side of Snape's head, wondering why Pomfrey hadn't either cleaned it or taken down the swelling.  
  
His hand covered the towel on Snape's head, and Snape's mouth curved up into a smile; a genuine smile, not a smirk or sneer. His eyes were still shut. Feeling tears in his eyes for the soft interior which he had never seen - never looked for - Harry gently pushed his father's hair out of his eyes and smiled down as the dark orbs opened.  
  
"How are you feeling?"  
  
Snape blinked, and said softly,  
  
"This is a dream, isn't it?"  
  
Harry shook his head, still smiling.  
  
"Don't you remember, Professor? I was duelling professor Flitwick and then you surprised me from behind. I disarmed you and you hit a wall. . ."  
  
Snape's lips curved up into a smile.  
  
"I thought that was a dream as well. Though dreams don't usually hurt that much. . ."  
  
"Madam Pomfrey told me to bring you back here, but she didn't heal you."  
  
"She doesn't like me; doesn't trust me."  
  
"May I?"  
  
Snape paused for a fraction of a second before nodding. Harry waved his wand, muttering "exducto" and saw the swelling go down.  
  
"You should sleep, professor."  
  
Snape shrugged.  
  
"I'm not that tired. I feel better now. . ."  
  
He tried to stand, and immediately fell back to the bed clutching his head. Harry smirked.  
  
"Do you want me to stay?"  
  
Snape looked at him in amazement. Had the boy just offered to stay willingly in Snape's company?  
  
"If you like" he said. Damn! He should have told the boy to go away. Harry summoned a chair from the other side of the room and sat down. He regarded Snape for a moment.  
  
"Will you tell me what happened with you and my mother?"  
  
Snape raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Surely you know the facts of life? I presume I don't have to give you the talk?"  
  
Harry flushed and looked away. "well actually. . ."  
  
Snape blanched and the infuriating boy laughed.  
  
"Of course I know! I meant. . .how you met. . .why my mum married James. . ."  
  
Snape nodded slowly.  
  
"Well, I can't say I remember that well. I mean. . .I was in Slytherin, she was in Gryffindor. We had some classes together, but she remained with her friends, and I with mine. She dated Sirius Black for a short time; it was very. . .ah. . .public. As was their break-up. Black said despicable things to your mother, and unfortunately the majority of the Gryffindors believed him. At the time, of course, he and Potter were the Golden Boys of Gryffindor. Lily was nothing - a small quiet redhead with an extraordinary talent for charms.  
  
Well, I was just coming out of my laboratory when I heard the sound of someone crying. I found her and comforted her as best I could, and I suppose our friendship grew from there. However when the Gryffindors and Slytherins found out, all hell broke loose. She was scared of losing all her friends, and broke off the agreement - and our engagement. We. . .we had one last night together. I like to fool myself that she still loved me. But it was too late - I was to be marked the next day. Several weeks later she came to see me. She saw the mark and fled without telling me her news. I now know what it was - that she was pregnant with you.  
  
I don't know how she ended up married to James. She couldn't stand him at Hogwarts. I heard about Voldemort's attack and immediately realised what I had to do. I informed Dumbledore and the ministry, but then James and Lily switched Keepers at the last moment without telling anyone, and there was nothing we could do. Voldemort fell and Dumbledore spoke for my innocence. My punishment? To spy for the light side."  
  
Silence fell, and Harry swallowed.  
  
"Thank you. Thank you for telling me the truth. I appreciate it."  
  
"It deserves to be told. May I ask you something?"  
  
Harry nodded, not sure what Snape would want to know from him.  
  
"How much do you weigh?"  
  
Harry shrugged and Snape's face grew suspicious and a little worried. Harry hurried to reassure him.  
  
"No, honestly, I'm not starving myself or anything - I honestly have no idea."  
  
"Are you eating properly now?"  
  
"Yes"  
  
They lapsed into companionable silence again until Snape spoke.  
  
"Are you in contact with Mr Longbottom?"  
  
"Yes - I've just replied to a letter from him."  
  
"Would you. . .would you tell him I apologise for my unfairness?"  
  
Harry nodded, and looked seriously at Snape.  
  
"That's not why he did it, you know. He'd been cutting his arms for ages."  
  
"But what if I just pushed him over the edge?"  
  
". . ."  
  
Harry shook his head.  
  
"He found everything hard. It would have happened sooner or later. But he's happy now. I'll send him your best wishes."  
  
Snape suddenly snorted.  
  
"I would imagine he would have a heart attack!"  
  
Harry began to laugh.  
  
Too soon he had to leave. He had never known what good company his father was, and his mind was reeling with the story of his parents. Sirius and his mother - well, no wonder they hated each other. Suddenly Harry clamped a hand to his mouth. Snape looked up.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Sirius!"  
  
"What about him?"  
  
"He doesn't know that your my father!"  
  
"Harry - no, don't go. I'm not going to yell at you. Just stay and listen. It's dangerous for anyone to love another person at the moment. And the two of us carry more danger than anyone else. Don't you understand, Harry?"  
  
Harry nodded, sadly.  
  
"I understand, sir."  
  
*******************************************  
  
He left the dungeons and decided to walk by the lake to try and clear his head. Then he ran headlong into the one person he really didn't want to.  
  
"Draco. What do you want?"  
  
Draco looked at Harry.  
  
"Merlin, you look terrible. Do you want to walk with me?"  
  
Harry shrugged, not really sure what to make of this nice Malfoy. Draco seemed to take that as a yes and tugged on Harry's arm.  
  
"I was actually hoping I'd see you. I think it's time we had a little talk. . ."  
  
The Slytherin led Harry into a small classroom inside and sat on a chair.  
  
"I know Snape is your father."  
  
Harry looked vaguely surprised.  
  
"And I want to know why the two of you don't seem to be making any effort. I mean, Merlin knows you both need families."  
  
"Draco, I've had this conversation with Snape several times. It's too risky with Voldemort still out there. Nobody can afford to have ties, least of all an ex-Deatheater and the Boy-Who-Lived. It'll just get us killed quicker."  
  
Draco was silent for a moment.  
  
"I don't really know what to say. I mean. . .I think. . ."  
  
"Don't think, Draco" said Harry softly, and he leaned in towards the other boy. Draco's throat and other parts tightened. But to his disappointment, Harry just touched his shoulder.  
  
Swallowing, Draco managed to clear his throat.  
  
" I found out what happened the other day"  
  
Harry's ears pricked up and he looked curious.  
  
"It's a friendship bond. It basically ensures closeness forever; empathy and understanding."  
  
Harry's face split into a wide grin.  
  
"A best friend! At last!"  
  
He didn't notice the tears welling in Draco's eyes.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Ok, thanks everyone for the feedback. I've decided what's going to happen with Draco and Harry, it won't be graphic slash, as I already am working on a sev/harry one, just a gentle romance. I really hope nobody will stop reading the story coz of this though, because their relationship won't be a central part of the story. 


	15. Christmas Holidays

Draco was well and truly confused.  
  
Ok, so he'd been out with a few Slytherin girls. Pansy Parkinson was one which he'd rather not remember. Made him cringe just to remember it. And why had he felt like with the words 'a best friend' his whole stomach had been ripped out?  
  
If he believed in such a thing, Draco would have called it love. But his father had said there was no such thing as love.  
  
He had also claimed there was no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' - only power and those too weak to seek it. And that had been the basis of his choice to leave the Dark Side.  
  
Draco wasn't completely ignorant. He had heard stories about men who. . .liked. . .other men. But he couldn't believe he felt that way about Potter! Or Harry. In fact. . .as he thought about it, he realised he actually did feel attracted. How weird - how revolting! Unfortunately, Draco wasn't one to hang around when he had a question. He hastened down the hallway, nearly running headlong into Harry.  
  
"Harry! Just the person I was looking for!"  
  
Well, thought Draco, in a rare moment of pure stupidity, might as well find out if it works for either of us. . .  
  
He pressed his lips to Harry's, using all the tricks that made his girlfriends melt. Harry jerked away, eyes wide in horror.  
  
"What in the nine fucking hells are you doing?" he spat out. His face was pale. Draco suddenly realised what a stupid thing that had been to do. His silver eyes filled with tears, and his shoulders began to hunch.  
  
"You're gay, aren't you." it was a statement rather than a question. Draco nodded, aware that he was flushing. He felt a tear roll down his cheek, and a soft finger brush it.  
  
"I'm sorry, Draco. I'm completely unattracted to you. I had a feeling. . .earlier. . ."  
  
Draco shook his head and brushed the tears out of his eyes.  
  
"You know, if you want to talk to anyone, Sirius came out when he was about your age. You could write to him or something. . ."  
  
He drew Draco into a strong hug, patting the Slytherin's back gently, before releasing him.  
  
"Look, I really am sorry. I don't want to hurt you."  
  
********************************************************  
  
Draco spent the next day moping in bed. The kiss had confirmed his terrified suspicions - he had enjoyed it. Now he felt dirty and freakish. There was no knowing how long he might have stayed in bed if the insistent tapping of an owl on his headboard hadn't frayed his temper so badly. He wrenched the parchment off it's leg and read it, his customary sneer fading as he scanned the letter.  
  
Dear anonymous person, who I honestly have no clue who you are,  
  
I recently heard that you were feeling in a bit of a predicament from a mutual friend, Harry. It was his idea for me to send you this, and I honestly don't know what was expected. I'm certainly not going to give you a blow-by-blow account of gay sex.  
  
Um, ok, Harry's glaring at me, so I'll just write about myself.  
  
I guess I realised I was gay when I was in my third year at Hogwarts. It was a gradual thing - I never really understood everyone's attraction to girls and then I developed a crush on another student. Which was acutely embarrassing, since he was definitely straight.  
  
I never said anything to him. And there is no way in the nine hells I will tell either you or Harry who it was. No.  
  
But when I did come out, to my friends, it was fine. The wizarding world is much more accepting than the Muggle world. Of course, there are some families who regard homosexuality as the worst curse, but they are few and far between.  
  
Um, yeah. So whoever you are, random person who Harry's made me owl, let me know if you've got any questions etc. Just use this bird.  
  
Yours,  
  
A mutual friend of Harry's.  
  
Draco looked at the letter in amazement, torn between laughing and crying.  
  
Maybe a best friend wasn't such a bad substitute for a lover.  
  
*******************************************  
  
Christmas arrived quickly, and one day after Transfiguration Professor McGonagall summoned Harry to Dumbledore's office. Harry had a horrible feeling he knew what was coming.  
  
"Harry, I'll cut straight to the point" said Dumbledore, his eyes only twinkling slightly over the top of a shortbread biscuit. "We are making all students stay at Hogwarts over the Christmas Holiday."  
  
Harry was slightly puzzled.  
  
"But, sir, I always stay here. . ."  
  
"Ah, but I think it would be a better idea this year to mix the students up inside their houses. It will help the school to stick together. Hmm, yes, a very good idea f I do say so myself"  
  
Dumbledore smiled genially and, having finished his biscuit, popped a lemon drop in his mouth. They sat in silence for a moment, Harry apprehensive, Dumbledore merely enjoying the muggle sweet. Finally Harry spoke.  
  
"Sir, I don't think that was all you were going to tell me. . ."  
  
"Ah no, Harry. You see, some students will be staying with teachers. You and Mr Malfoy will have professor Snape. I thought that it would be good for you to make a bit more of a link."  
  
Harry's heart gave a startled squeak and dived down to nestle, quivering, in his trainers. He unconsciously groaned, and Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"Now now, Harry, I'm sure you'll have a lovely time. You should get back to your lessons now."  
  
The teenager slunk out looking thoroughly dejected.  
  
********************************************  
  
"You want WHAT!?!" bellowed Snape, his face twisted into a most unbecoming sneer.  
  
"Now, Severus, I'm sure it won't be that bad. It's only three weeks. . ."  
  
"Albus, I told you quite clearly that I CANNOT become attached to the boy. Not until the war is over."  
  
The headmaster's eyes darkened and despite himself Snape flinched slightly.  
  
"And what if the war never ends? What if you both die? You will never have known having a family. Believe it or not, Severus, love will make you both stronger. You are destroying Harry. He wants your affection, and I have seen the way you treat him. One moment you seem to detest him, then you give him a chance; have a civil conversation; and snatch it back."  
  
Snape's shoulders fell.  
  
"I'm just trying to do what's best" he said softly.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Dumbledore refused to back down, beginning to get annoyed whenever Harry or Snape approached him with complaints. So, on the first day of the holidays, Harry found himself standing awkwardly outside a portrait of a wizard with a snake wrapped around his shoulders. As Harry watched, the Snake twisted it's body into curves and curls. It also seemed to change colours, from turquoise to pale yellow. He was so engrossed in the snake that when the wizard asked what he wanted, he replied directly to the snake.  
  
"I'm here to see Professor Snape. I have to stay with him for the holidays."  
  
"A parseltongue!" exclaimed the wizard, also in the snake language. "I was getting so bored with only Silos for company.  
  
The snake glared at his master, flickering his tongue in he man's face, and hissed, "You're no great converssationalisst yoursself. . ."  
  
Harry smirked, and the two figures looked at him in surprise.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You look exactly like Severus when you do that."  
  
"Greasy git. . ." hissed Silos.  
  
The wizard smiled.  
  
"Silos can't stand the fact that he can understand Severus but not talk back to him. Severus may have made some inappropriate comments about my friend in the past. . ."  
  
"He called me a slimy serpent and said that all snakes should be killed!"  
  
"Yes, well, I'm sure he didn't mean it offensively. . ."  
  
The snake snorted and pointed it's tail at Harry.  
  
"Don't you think he should let him in?"  
  
Just as he said this, and Harry hissed back that he would actually rather wait outside thank you very much, the Portrait was slammed open from inside. Harry had just enough time to register Silos' grumble of 'Snarky bastard' before he was unceremoniously deposited on the floor inside the dungeon.  
  
"I don't suppose you considered knocking, did you?"  
  
Harry shrugged, smiling innocently into the face of his father.  
  
"The snake was nice. He doesn't seem to like you very much though."  
  
"Wha - oh, of course. Bloody show off." Snarled Snape, which just made Harry smirk even more. From the corner there was a low chuckle and Harry spun around to see Draco. His face broke out into a slightly concerned smile. There was the sound of a slamming door which marked Snape's departure and Harry sat next to Draco on the sofa in a slightly awkward silence.  
  
"Thanks. . .for getting your godfather to write to me. I really appreciate that." Said Draco softly, and Harry smiled. They never spoke of it again.  
  
*****************************************  
  
Harry and Draco stayed up that night until about 11.00 doing their homework. Snape had disappeared into some other room of his quarters, completely ignoring both boys. Eventually, Draco put down his Charms scroll and looked at Harry.  
  
"Does it confuse you?"  
  
Harry didn't have to ask what he was talking about.  
  
"Yes. Sometimes he's a complete bastard to me, and says that there's no relation between us, and that he can't be a father - then sometimes he's nice and kind and it seems like there might be a chance. . ."  
  
Harry dissolved into tears, much to his shock. He hadn't been able to talk to anyone about this, and it hurt so much. He felt Draco gently touch his shoulder, worry radiating off the blond boy.  
  
"Harry. . .I. . ."  
  
Draco was cut of short by another voice.  
  
"Draco, you can go to bed now."  
  
Snape was standing in the doorway and from the horrified look on his face Draco assumed that he had heard the entire conversation. Draco quickly fled to the bedroom and began undressing. He didn't want to make Snape angry.  
  
Snape came and sat next to his sobbing son, and awkwardly put a hand on his shoulder. To his amazement, Harry leaned into it a little, and when the hand was not retracted, Harry turned so that his face was buried in Snape's chest. The potions master stroked Harry's back.  
  
"I'm not sure what to say, harry. I am really sorry. . .I didn't know how unfair I was being. . ."  
  
Harry didn't respond, he just kept crying, and Snape didn't know what to say, so he just sat, holding his son.  
  
"It'll get better now, I promise, Harry. It'll all get better now. . ."  
  
***************************************  
  
Eventually Harry managed to stop crying and flopped against Snape's shoulder. Deciding that this was as good a time as any, Snape began the conversation he had been wanting to have with his son for a long time.  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"Mm hmm?"  
  
"Why didn't you tell Dumbledore that those muggles were beating you?"  
  
Harry stiffened and looked like he was about to get back up, but Snape held him back gently.  
  
"I. . .I didn't want him to think I was weak."  
  
"It's not weak!"  
  
Harry sneered. He suddenly looked older and very tired.  
  
"I'm the one who's meant to destroy Voldemort. And I couldn't stand up to a few muggles. Can you imagine what would happen if that news got out?"  
  
Snape was silent for a few moments, and then he realised that Harry was shivering.  
  
"Accio blanket"  
  
Harry looked at him in surprise as the blanket draped over Harry's bony form. Snape supposed that Harry had never really been taken care of.  
  
"It's cold in here, isn't it? I suppose I've grown used to it."  
  
Harry nodded, his eyes half shut.  
  
"Can we talk more in the morning, Harry? There are still some things I need to ask you."  
  
Harry nodded once more, and slipped into a deep sleep. With a slight smile, Snape brushed back a lock of the boy's black hair, revelling in the satisfied grumble that the sleeping boy give off.  
  
Maybe it wasn't too late after all.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
-- Well? Whaddya think? Footmonster, you owe me a teacake. They are the nice chocolate ones with marshmallow inside right, not those disgusting things that are like toast with raisins? Umm, anyway. . .exams starting on Monday, 2 novels to read before then, oops. . .so don't hold your breath for updates. And wish me luck for the exams. . .they're like, the mocks for really important exams. REALLY important exams. 


	16. Illness

Snape fell asleep holding Harry, and for once got a full 9 hours. He didn't wake up until he felt a hand being placed on his shoulder.  
  
"Professor Snape? Severus? Will you wake up?"  
  
He opened a bleary eye and saw Draco laughing. Had Harry not been in his arms he might have hexed the impudent Slytherin but he really couldn't be bothered.  
  
"Mm. . .what time is it?" he asked, trying to stifle a yawn.  
  
"9.00. That's the only reason I was brave enough to try and wake you."  
  
Snape nodded and laid his head back on the sofa before leaping to his feet, sending Harry tumbling gracelessly to the floor.  
  
"My lesson!"  
  
"Calm down, professor. The headmaster said he'd fill in your first one for you, while you 'got yourself together'."  
  
"Merlin!" groaned Snape, ignoring Harry's annoyed growl from the floor. "The man barely knows which way up a cauldron goes! How the hell is he meant to teach my class?"  
  
Still grumbling, he made his way to the bathroom, and Draco hauled Harry to his feet.  
  
"You are getting on better then?"  
  
Harry smiled and nodded.  
  
"You slept through the night for once!"  
  
"Yes, I did. I was very comfortable, too, until he threw me on the floor!"  
  
Draco snorted and held out a hand.  
  
"You can't just stay there on the sofa. For a start, I'd be so jealous that I might have to hex you."  
  
Harry stuck out his tongue lazily and dragged himself to his feet with a groan just as Snape came out of the bathroom.  
  
"Come on Harry, you have to go to lessons." He said briskly, before adjusting his robes and sweeping into the other room. Harry shook his head and followed.  
  
"I really don't want to. . ."  
  
Snape snorted.  
  
"Oh well, I don't want to teach a snivelling class of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws."  
  
"You aren't. Professor Dumbledore is."  
  
"Not if I have any say in it!"  
  
Harry sighed in defeat and went back to the bathroom. He removed the concealing charms on his face which his the marks where he had hit his head against the wall and looked at himself. He was quite pale, and his face was sweaty. He wondered why, and briefly contemplated asking Snape, but decided that he would be too busy preparing for his class.  
  
After a few minutes examining his face, Harry turned away in disgust. He looked dreadful. He had lied to Draco; he had woken after half and hour's sleep and stayed awake, pressed close to his father's chest for the rest of the night. The contact had been much-needed but he really wasn't getting enough sleep. He was scared.  
  
Scared, because every time he closed his eyes he saw new things that Voldemort had done. The Dark Lord was getting more creative in his methods of killing people, and the nightmares frequently made Harry sick.  
  
His eyes were puffy and bloodshot, with deep purple circles carved into the porcelain skin. His cheekbones stuck out sharply, and he hated himself for lying to his father as well, because he just never felt hungry. A sharp tap on the door knocked him out of his thoughts.  
  
"Harry, hurry up!"  
  
"I'm coming!"  
  
He felt the familiar tingle of the charm weaving into his skin, and vacated the bathroom with a grin at Draco.  
  
"Don't go without me, Harry. Severus told me to get something to eat from the kitchens before our first lesson. Apparently Dumbledore made our excuses."  
  
Harry nodded, and sank gratefully into a chair to wait. His eyelids started to close but he jerked them open again as Draco came through.  
  
"C'mon, we have to go the different way. . .wouldn't be good for the students to see you coming out of his chambers. . .might think the wrong thing . . ."  
  
He winked, and Harry blanched.  
  
"That's my father you're talking about, Draco!"  
  
Draco merely smirked, and went into the hall.  
  
"Where's the food?" he asked, looking puzzled. Harry snorted, and gestured towards the painting. He tickled the pear and the door sprang open. Draco's exclamation was drowned out by Harry's gasp as Dobby fastened himself securely to the Gryffindor's waist.  
  
"Hey Dobby, I really need to get some food quickly. Do you think you can do that? Just for me and Draco."  
  
Dobby nodded, grinning happily, and ran off. Draco, who had his back turned, whispered to Harry, "Is that my old house elf? How the hell did you get Lucius to free him?"  
  
Harry smirked, and pretended to zip his mouth, just at the same time as Dobby returned with a tray of sandwiches and drinks.  
  
"Here you is, Master harry, and Master. . .Aii!"  
  
There was a loud crack, and Draco squealed as he found himself suspended upside down on the ceiling.  
  
"Dobby! Put him down!" yelled Harry, trying not to laugh.  
  
"No, master Malfoy is bad. Master Malfoy tries to hurt Harry Potter!"  
  
As if to emphasise his point, Dobby flipped Draco over.  
  
"Stop it! Now! Draco is my friend. Never hurt him again!"  
  
Harry held his wand, his eyes furious, and with a startled squeak Dobby let the boy gently down with a suspicious look at Harry. Draco pretended to dust himself off, hiding his crimson face. Harry could distinctly hear him muttering about stupid elves. The rest of the house-elves were watching in open amazement, and Harry grasped Draco's elbow.  
  
"I think we'll eat outside, Draco. Thanks for the food, Dobby - I'll come and visit you soon!"  
  
Draco leapt out of the portrait hole and leaned against the wall.  
  
"Merlin those elves are scary!"  
  
Harry couldn't help himself laughing. In the end, he and Draco took a few sandwiches each and headed off to their respective classes. Harry ate his on the way to Care of Magical Creatures; for once the Gryffindors weren't with Slytherin. He was glad to finally feel hungry. He hadn't eaten for so long. . .when Snape had complained about his weight, he had even had the concealing charms on. He was much thinner without them.  
  
Hagrid was showing them how to tend to Cornish Pixies ("Yeh've got ter be careful with 'em. . .nasty little buggers, they can be") when Harry's stomach started to roil. He took several deep breaths, and the nausea abated for a few minutes, but quickly returned. When he finally realised he was actually going to throw up he managed to sneak behind the sheds. No sense in worrying Hagrid, as the man was already inclined to be overprotective. Rubbing his clammy forehead he returned to the class, thankful that nobody had noticed him. Ron and Hermione were still ignoring him, but his head was pounding too hard for him to feel bothered.  
  
Funny, nobody else seemed to notice how hot it was. . .he wiped a drop of sweat off his brow, and immediately began to shiver with biting cold. He stood quietly for the rest of the lesson, trying to ignore the pain in his head and the odd tingling in his skin, and left quickly once Hagrid had finished.  
  
They had flying practice next, but Harry was terrible. In the mock game of Quidditch, he let in ten goals as a Keeper and failed to catch the Snitch once. Madam Hooch kept him behind after the lesson.  
  
"This is not good enough, Mr Potter. I don't care if you have a lot of extra work, I will not have my classes disrupted by you deciding that you can't be bothered to work properly!"  
  
Harry flushed, though it was hidden behind the concealing charm, and nodded.  
  
"I'm sorry, ma'am."  
  
She left with a snort, and Harry was left to change all alone. As he stood up to get his shirt the room spun around sharply and his knees buckled, sending him crumpling to the floor. He lay still for a few seconds and then slowly got up, managing to get dressed without too much trouble.  
  
He forced himself to eat some lunch, brushing off Draco's comments that he was quiet. However his apathetic front was ruined when he had to bolt to the toilets to throw up again violently. When Draco came to see if he was ok, he said that he couldn't stand so much butter on a potato. If Draco thought that was odd, he didn't say anything for which Harry was very grateful.  
  
He didn't know why he felt so bad, and he didn't know why he wouldn't tell anyone. Actually, he did. He didn't want to be seen as weak.  
  
After lunch they had transfiguration together, and again Harry completely messed everything up. His fingers were shaking too badly to even hold the wand, and dizzy spells hehe were occurring nearly every five minutes. He knew he really should at least lie down. . .but there were only a few more minutes to go.  
  
"Harry! Hello? You there?"  
  
Draco's voice jolted him out of his thoughts.  
  
"I said, what are you doing after this lesson?"  
  
"Oh, I was going to work in the Common Room."  
  
"No, come and work in the library with me."  
  
Harry really just wanted to sleep but he knew that would arouse Draco's suspicion so he agreed. After the lesson had ended and Harry had been snapped at by McGonagall, they went straight to the library to revise for the Charms test. Harry let Draco practice a biting hex on him, and then tried to cast a stinging curse. The world tilted and his hand moved at the wrong moment, and the curse hit Draco the wrong way, causing little bubble- like blisters to spring up on his face. Draco didn't mind, but Harry was horrified. Madam Pomfrey insisted on keeping Draco in overnight, so Harry went to bed. He was soon too hot under the bedclothes, and threw them off just as a school owl swooped in.  
  
Harry plucked the letter from it's proffered leg. It was short and to the point.  
  
Mr Potter,  
  
You are expected in the Potions Room at 7.30pm.  
  
Professor S. Snape.  
  
Harry groaned, and he could have sworn that the owl looked at him disapprovingly. Reluctantly he got out of bed, ensured the concealing charm was intact, and went downstairs. He had to stop by the toilets to throw up again, and he nearly fell down the stairs as a particularly nasty pain shot through his head, but he was just in time. He knocked on the door, and Snape opened it, waving him in. He followed his father to the private chambers and sat down, wondering what was coming.  
  
"I heard about what happened with Draco"  
  
"It was an accident!"  
  
"You are not dense enough to have an accident like that."  
  
"I'm sorry. I just messed up the charm. I didn't do it on purpose!"  
  
Snape looked at him calculatingly.  
  
"No, I don't suppose you did. It's not your style. But it's not ordinary for you to do a spell wrong; if nothing else, you are accurate."  
  
Harry barely noticed the back-handed compliment; a new wave of dizziness was threatening to make him fall out of the chair, and he felt sick.  
  
"Harry, are you listening to me?"  
  
Nodding made his vision swim even behind his glasses, but seemed to placate Snape who carried on.  
  
"I would like to know what happened, because if it wasn't intentional then something is wrong, and I. . .I am concerned."  
  
Harry tried to keep his eyes focused, but he was unsure which Snape to focus on. There were currently about four of them, all identical.  
  
"Harry, you aren't listening to me are you?"  
  
"Yes. . .yes, I am. . ."  
  
His voice sounded like it was coming from somewhere else, as did Snape's.  
  
"Harry? Are you alright?"  
  
Snape leaned forward, looking at his son. He looked fine, though his hair was unusually messy, but he was shivering in the light of the fire and swaying slightly in his chair.  
  
"Harry, are you alright?" he repeated, and watched as Harry tried to focus on him. Obeying his instincts, which had kept him alive this far, he rose to his feet and caught Harry's shoulders just as the boy slumped forward unconscious. 


	17. Fever

A/N I just realised that my story makes no sense, time wise. Let me explain. Draco and Harry moved in two days before the end of term. 'Today' is the last day of term before Christmas. I might do some Christmas fluff, depending on whether my reviewers want it. Please let me know. Also, taking a leaf out of Diagonalist's book, I'm begging for long reviews. . .love 'em!  
  
  
  
Snape sucked in his breath sharply. Something was really wrong, because the boy was boiling hot but still shaking. The only thing it could be was a curse. . .  
  
"Finite incantatem" he intoned, and watched in horror as Harry's body shrank. His face was ghostly white, and there were huge shadows under his eyes. More worrying was the way his cheekbones and ribs stuck out. As gently as he could, Snape carried Harry through to his own bedroom and laid him down on the bed.  
  
A hand on the forehead proved that the boy was indeed burning with a fever. There were bruises on the delicate features, probably from the wall. Horrified at not having found out before, Snape sank down next to Harry and stroked his clammy hair back.  
  
How long had he been ill? Why hadn't he told Snape? Or Draco? Or anyone? Then he realised that he really didn't have time to talk to himself about it. He pulled a sheet over Harry after taking off the boy's shoes, and then cast a temperature regulating spell over him. His son. . .his frail, pale little son, began to toss and turn, groaning unintelligibly.  
  
Snape looked at him, worry clouding the normally expressionless features. It didn't seem to be a curse, or at least not one that Snape knew of. But Harry was obviously seriously ill. Eventually he decided to call Pomfrey, and threw a handful of red powder only used for emergencies into the fireplace, all the while looking at Harry.  
  
"Poppy, I need you to come down here. Mr Potter is unwell."  
  
Poppy didn't waste time with idle chit-chat - there was a pop and she stepped out of the fireplace, dusting off her dress, and bustled over to Harry. She looked at him, worry clouding her eyes, and cast a few charms. Then she turned around and looked at Snape.  
  
"Severus, this is extremely odd. He isn't under any curse or spell, but he is very ill."  
  
Snape rolled his eyes.  
  
"Did it not occur to you that I might have ascertained that for myself before I called you?"  
  
The nurse bristled and glowered at Snape, who returned the scowl coolly. Then she turned back to Harry, and cast a few more charms on him. Snape tried to feign disinterest although his eyes were riveted on the bed.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"What happened, Severus! You would normally throw the student in question out of the portrait hole and leave them to freeze."  
  
Snape scowled, but quickly relented.  
  
"He came in for a detention and passed out straight away. I may be heartless, but I could see that he was ill."  
  
"Well, Severus, I'm sure you won't be happy to hear this, but I'm afraid there really is no chance of moving him. He's far too frail. Look how thin he is!"  
  
Snape gave a non-committal grunt and a curt nod.  
  
"I shall summon the Headmaster, Poppy, if you will excuse me."  
  
Pomfrey bent over Harry, looking sadly at the bony boy who she had seen far too many times. He was seriously underweight; his ribs projected from the skin giving him a deathly look in the shadows of the dungeons.  
  
**********************************************  
  
"Dumbledore's office!"  
  
"Ah, Severus. What can I do for you?"  
  
"Albus, can you please come downstairs? Harry's ill."  
  
Albus nodded shortly, and appeared in Snape's office with a squeaky popping sound.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Snape shrugged, and sagged into a chair, suddenly exhausted.  
  
"I called him in about Malfoy, because I thought it was odd. And, I suppose, I wanted to spend some time with him. He came in and sat down, and I was trying to talk to him and he was not really listening. Then. . .I asked him if he was alright. He nodded and smiled to a point about 2 inches from my left ear, then passed out."  
  
Dumbledore frowned.  
  
"Is there something you aren't telling me, Severus?"  
  
"I took the concealing charms off him after he had fainted. God, Albus, he looks dreadful. How could I have let him get this bad?"  
  
Snape buried his hands in his hair and stared at the floor, flinching away as Dumbledore reached out a hand.  
  
"Don't touch me! Have you seen him? He's white as a ghost, he is severely underweight, and he has bruises on his head from trying to knock himself out because he can't sleep!"  
  
Dumbledore's eyes shut in pain.  
  
"Will Poppy be taking him to the Infirmary?"  
  
"No - she says he's too ill to move. Albus, I don't know what to do? How could I have not noticed? He said he didn't want to go to classes and I forced him to!"  
  
"Now, now Severus. You're being too hard on yourself."  
  
Snape glowered in silence and showed Dumbledore through to where Harry lay. Despite himself, the headmaster sucked in his breath sharply.  
  
"I told you" muttered Snape, and immediately stiffened as he felt the tip of a wand poke into his neck. Dumbledore spoke in a low, dangerous voice.  
  
"Harry needs someone to look after him, not someone to berate themselves. It's happened now. You need to take care of your son and stop being so self- obsessed, Severus."  
  
Snape swallowed, partly due to the fact that the wand was cutting off his breath and partly through nervousness of the old man, who's magic had lost none of it's potency over the years. Then, surprising him as only Dumbledore could, the headmaster patted Snape on the shoulder, ruffled Harry's hair and made his way out.  
  
"Oh, and Severus? I'll cancel your classes for today. I want you to stay with Harry."  
  
He was out of the door before Snape could argue.  
  
***************************************  
  
Harry didn't know whether he was awake or still dreaming. Did people get sick in dreams? Because he really felt like throwing up. He tried to make some noise, or move, but all he managed was a weak little whimper. Instantly someone was by his side; he could feel the looming presence. His first instinct was to throw his arms up against the inevitable attack, before he realised that he would not be on a bed if he was in Surrey.  
  
"Sick" he mumbled through cracked and swollen lips. He felt gentle hands tilt him slightly, and his head swam. Vomit rushed up into his mouth and he threw up violently into a bowl of some sort before being gently laid back down again. He dimly noticed that the pillows had a cooling charm placed on them; they felt good against his throbbing head. That was the last thing he remembered as a new kind of darkness closed over his head.  
  
***************************  
  
Snape put a hand on Harry's forehead. He was still burning with fever. Just then his son groaned and tried to move. Snape moved next to him and was disconcerted when he flinched and tried to draw bony arms up to hide his face.  
  
He suddenly realised that the boy was very pale, rapidly turning green. He summoned a basin just at the same time as Harry mumbled something like 'sick' and put it in front of the boy, wincing in sympathy as he threw up. When he was sure that Harry couldn't possibly have any more food to bring up, he cast a quick cooling charm on the pillows and lay Harry back down, watching as his son drifted back into unconsciousness.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N Ok, I know I normally write longer chapters, but the next one is really important so I thought I'd end this one at a convenient spot. 


	18. Christmas and the Fall of Voldemort

Darkness fell over him. Darkness. . .and then terrible, terrible pain. And a high pitched laugh - Voldemort. But this was no nightmare. This was so real.  
  
He could see now. He was in a black place. He was bound and gagged, and the rustling beneath him implied that Nagini was prowling around.. Again, he heard that terrible laugh, that spoke of death and torture.  
  
"I have you now, Harry Potter. Killing you physically - now that was nigh on impossible, due to some unforeseen protection or sheer luck. But here, here I can break your mind. You will go slowly insane, and there will be nothing anyone can do about it. And soon, you will just be nothing. Breathing but not living; watching, but not seeing. And nobody will be able to do anything about it.  
  
'You see, Potter, I am a formidable wizard. Look what I can do. . ."  
  
He held out his wand, and images of James and Lily appeared. James was holding Lily down, an ugly look on his face, as he brutally raped her. Her scream carried far. And then. . .Sirius, being kissed by a Dementor. . .and Lupin, stabbed with a silver dagger. Harry couldn't help himself. Over the sound of Voldemort's cackling, he screamed as though screaming would make it go away, and tried to pull himself back into consciousness. But he couldn't. The darkness was unyielding, and Voldemort just kept on laughing.  
  
***************************************************  
  
Snape was trying to brew a potion, though he couldn't really concentrate. He was too worried about Harry. And then the screams started, screams of pain and torture which he had never heard before. The vial fell from his nerveless fingers and shattered on the floor, and that sound jerked him from his stupor. Ignoring the corrosive acid which would burn a hole in the stone floor, he sprinted through to the other room in a flurry of black robes. Harry was writhing on the bed as though he was trying to escape from bindings, screaming piercingly. Snape tried to touch his son's face, but didn't want to wake the boy. Just in case it made things worse. . .  
  
Eventually, he decided that nothing could be worse than the pain-filled shrieks, and laid a hand on Harry's forehead.  
  
"Harry. . .Harry. . .it's ok, everything's going to be ok. . ."  
  
He felt incredibly stupid, speaking such kind words, but the boy did seem to calm a little. His breathing was ragged, and he whimpered in pain occasionally. Snape continued to stroke him gently, and was just thinking that maybe Harry was calming down properly when he started to twitch and scream again.  
  
**************************************************  
  
Just when Harry felt like he was going to die from the emotional pain, he felt something cool touch his head. Shocked, he stopped screaming, not even realising he was whimpering. Wondering for a moment if he had woken up, he opened his eyes slowly. But it was still black, and Voldemort began to laugh again. Finally Harry snapped.  
  
"Go away, Tom Riddle" he muttered. Voldemort stopped laughing and his red eyes narrowed.  
  
"Do not presume to call me that, insolent boy!"  
  
"Bastard" hissed Harry, and to his astonishment Voldemort gasped and fell back, his face twisted in pain. Harry had spoken in Pareseltongue. . .Voldemort had been in pain. . ."CRUCIO!"  
  
The stabbing pain rent through Harry again and again, and Snape tried desperately to calm the wild boy.  
  
"No! No! Stop it!"  
  
Snape frowned as the boy started hissing, when suddenly his arm began to burn with such a fury it might fall off - stars danced in front of his eyes, he was aware of the tang of blood in his mouth and a pain in his lip, and then still holding onto Harry he fell into unconsciousness.  
  
Trying to fight his way through the pain, Harry began screaming in Parseltongue; words that didn't really make much sense. He was aware that he was calling for Tom Riddle to come out. And then. . .he did. There was a hideous cracking shriek, and Voldemort diminished until he became a man not so different from Harry. He was stockier than Voldemort, and had Harry's messy hair.  
  
"Tom Riddle" hissed Harry, his eyes watering from the pain. "Avada Kedavra!"  
  
There was one short flash of green light; and then all that remained was a limp body, gazing sightlessly at the ceiling.  
  
"I killed him!" whispered Harry. "I did it! I killed Voldemort!"  
  
And then he blacked out.  
  
*********************************************  
  
Snape woke up suddenly, feeling that something was amiss. On consideration, several things were amiss. For one, he was asleep with his head on his knees, which made his neck very painful. For another thing, his throat hurt, perhaps from screaming, and he wasn't really prone to nightmares. And even more oddly, the pain from the first two reasons was actually noticeable. Which meant that his mark wasn't hurting. His mark wasn't hurting!  
  
He held his wrist out in front of him and looked in amazement. The tattoo was slowly fading, the serpent's metallic black colour dimming to a murky grey, and then a dull silver, and then colourless. And it was gone.  
  
The shock of not having constant agony touching his nerve cells was almost enough to make him weep with pleasure, and he might have, had Harry not started screaming and thrashing around on the bed. Sweat poured off his forehead, and with a thrill of foreboding Snape realised that the famous scar was bleeding heavily. He didn't touch it for fear of hurting Harry more, and sat, utterly helpless, next to his son. However the screaming passed relatively quickly, and Harry went silent. Too silent.  
  
Snape shook Harry and a green eye opened blearily.  
  
"He. . .he's dead" he whispered, shaking. Then the colour left his cheeks, and Snape hastily held out the bowl again.  
  
"Feel. . .fell ill. . .dad. . ."  
  
Snape froze, halfway through stroking Harry's back. His conscience screamed at him in jubilation, waving little flags and playing fanfares on the trumpets.  
  
Dad! Dad! He called you dad! Dad!  
  
He didn't notice that in the silence Harry too had gone rigid.  
  
"I'm sorry" he muttered, and turned away. "I misunderstood. . .I thought. . .so ill. . ."  
  
He turned away and closed his eyes in clear dismissal and with horror Snape realised that he had made it seem like he was upset, maybe even angry at Harry's familiarity. He put his hands on Harry's back.  
  
"Harry. . ."  
  
"No, I understand." Harry's eyes were cold and flat at the same time. "I understand perfectly. I am sorry for having misunderstood. I'm sure someone will come by soon. Petrificus Totalis!"  
  
Snape's eyes widened fractionally before he went rigid and fell over backwards. He heard shaky steps, and a small groan, and rustling, then the door opened and closed with a creak, and it was silent. Silently he cursed the boy. Where on earth was he going?  
  
************************************  
  
Harry felt like his heart had sunk to his feet. He was so embarrassed, and so tired. . .he didn't know where the energy to stun Snape had come from, but he did, and got to his feet, unable to suppress a groan at the pain it caused him. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire - as did his skin. He didn't remember ever having felt so ill. Maybe it was Voldemort; he had leached off his power for so long that he didn't have strength of his own. He quickly put on one of his robes which was on the chair, and left.  
  
Unsure where he was, as the dungeons seemed to have changed, he wandered in a stupor for a long time, until his legs finally gave out beneath him. He didn't notice Draco following him until he collapsed to the ground, sweating and shaking, trying not to cry out with pain. He felt hands on him, and pulled away, trying not to scream hysterically at the contact. All he wanted was Severus. . .  
  
****************************************  
  
Draco tried to touch Harry, but the Gryffindor flinched away. Further attempts resulted in Harry lashing out at him, and immediately curling into a ball. Finally deciding that he was getting nowhere, Draco tried to stun Harry, but the spell only panicked him and he managed to dodge it, and took off in the other direction, weaving from side to side. Whether it was due to his illness - it was obvious he was unwell - or just trying to dodge hexes Draco didn't know. However he managed to hit him with a body-bind and then levitate the body back to Snape's chambers. When Draco knocked, there was no answer, so Draco gave the password and entered. As he did so, he gasped. Snape lay motionless of the floor.  
  
"Severus!"  
  
A glittering black eye glowered at him, and Draco realised the man had been stunned. No wonder he was in a bad mood. A quick flick of the wand lifted the spell and Snape got to his feet. Then he realised that Draco was levitating Harry, and all traces of anger left his face to be replaced by worry. Harry was soaked from the damp of the dungeons, and even through the body-bind his breath was coming in ragged gasps.  
  
Snape sharply told Draco to get out of the way, unbound his son, and carried him through to the bathroom. He didn't even pause to wonder where this side of him had come from; he just knew that a hot bath was the quickest way to warm Harry properly - a spell would only be temporary - and if Harry didn't warm up he would go into shock. His fingers were already icy to the touch.  
  
He quickly stripped Harry, starting to feel a little awkward, and lifted the seriously underweight boy into the bath. Harry visibly relaxed in the hot water, and his shivering ceased. After checking that he would not slump underwater, Snape turned and cast heating charms on the towels, and summoned a thick robe which Harry could wear as a night-shirt. When he felt the water going cold, he lifted the still unconscious boy out with gentle arms and wrapped him in towels, drying him as carefully as he could. He had thought Harry was asleep until a green eye looked suspiciously at him through a towel.  
  
"Trying to kill me, now Voldemort's gone?"  
  
Snape flinched.  
  
"Harry, I'm sorry. I was amazed. . .amazed you wanted anything to do with me. I didn't mean to look upset, if I did. I was just totally shell- shocked."  
  
It cost him a great deal of pride to say those words, but the look of joy on Harry's face made it worthwhile. The emerald eyes were already closing as he tried again.  
  
"'Night, dad"  
  
Snape felt something long lost stir in his chest and he cradled the skinny body to him protectively.  
  
"'Night, Harry."  
  
**********************************************  
  
Voldemort having caused Harry's illness, combined with the fact that Harry hadn't been eating or sleeping well enough, meant that he was still ill on Christmas Day. To his amazement, all the people and staff staying at the school came down to Professor Snape's rooms to give Harry his presents and eat Christmas dinner.  
  
The look on Dobby's face was quite comical when he realised who Harry was staying with, but he was soon placated by a pair of Green and Silver socks that Snape gave him with a sneer. Dobby tried to wrap his arms around the Potions Master, but quickly stopped when Snape began to growl.  
  
Harry ate a little, savouring the delicious slices of turkey and the crispy and golden roast potatoes, but Snape wouldn't let him eat too much in case he became ill. Obviously most of the staff couldn't give Harry presents, but from Colin he received a camera so he could take photos of himself with Snape and his friends. He got a small potions set from Snape, with instructions to brew rather amusing potions that could keep the whole of Gryffindor amused the next year. Draco had bought him a new broomstick care set, which was exactly the same as the one Harry had got Draco, much to the amusement of all the staff.  
  
And so they sat for hours by Harry's bed, laughing and talking, underneath the little glowing balls that Flitwick had put around Harry's bed, and there was a big Christmas tree decorated with tinsel and baubles. Finally midnight fell, and at Harry's stifled yawns Snape hustled everyone out of the room. When they were all gone, he ran a hand over Harry's head and told him to get some sleep.  
  
"Night Dad" whispered Harry, a note of hope still in his voice.  
  
"Night son" whispered Snape back, and he gently kissed the top of Harry's head, feeling the ice on his heart finally crack, and melt, and disappear.  
  
"I love you."  
  
  
  
  
  
************** THE END *************  
  
  
  
Woooh! I finished it! And I'm not going to write a sequel. Well, actually, if lots of people ask for one then I might. But I honestly found it so hard to do this one AND end it without self harm, anorexia, bulimia, suicide etc etc. . .are you proud of me? A light and fluffy fic!  
  
I just finished exams, so hopefully updates on 'Ill Words' will be more frequent, and I am also writing a Raped!Harry story which stemmed from 'The Warmth of Life' by Skye. It's just going to be a 1 chapter thing, so it'll be a while. But it IS coming!  
  
I think that's all. Thanks for all the great feedback, please let me know what you think of the final chapter and the story as a whole. Feedback helps my ego and means that I will update 'Ill Words' more quickly (hint hint!) 


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